


As Far As Angels Ken

by WarlockWriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are still dicks, BAMF!Cas, Canon Temporary Character Death, Case Fic, Dean Winchester is a Good Cook, M/M, Oddly Sensitive Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:57:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter
Summary: Sometimes Dean wished he could just get in Baby and drive into the sunset. However, duty and family always call him back.The Angels have fallen. Sam is hurting from the aborted ritual. Cas is human. Crowley is, well sort of half-human, half-demon. Kevin isn't eating or sleeping. And seriously, Death just pulled up to the Bunker? It's definitely not Dean's day.





	As Far As Angels Ken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dean/Cas Big Bang 2017. Many thanks to my awesome artist, dogsled, who picked the absolutely perfect scenes for this story. It's great to work with an artist who really gets the story.
> 
> Also, thanks to modulegirl for the great beta read!
> 
> If you are interested in some behind the scenes notes, those are at the end.

Some days Dean Winchester just wanted to get in his Baby, start driving and never stop.

Who knew that closing the Pearly Gates (and deciding not to close the Demon Gates) would cause such a big mess?

To say that Cas was not dealing well with being human would be the understatement of the century.

Sam was still in pain from his abortive attempt at closing the Gates of Hell, but he was refusing to admit it. Nothing new there.

Then there was Crowley who was stuck in some sort of half demon/half not-demon state. No, don't ask him to explain it.

About the only good thing that had come out of this was Kevin Tran. With the Gates of Heaven closed, there was apparently nothing to prophet about, and the kid was finally getting some sleep. And eating. Hallelujah!

And then there was Death. Just a few days after everything had happened, he'd driven up in a pale white F150 pickup, right up to the bunker. He supposed it made sense. Not like you could hide anything from Death.

And of course, the person he wanted to talk to was none other than Dean Winchester. The only one who'd been even half holding together the mess he'd been handed.

Death strode into the bunker as if he owned it, cane tapping purposefully on the hard floor. Everyone had been gathered in the main room, ostensibly to plan some sort of strategy but in reality, more because no one really wanted to be alone.

Death scanned the room, eyes moving while his head remained still. Dean couldn't resist. He knew this as one being he didn't want to sass, but restraint had never been one of his strong points. "No Caddy this time? A pickup is kind of a come down for you."

"Since your--" Death glanced around, disdain on his features. "...whatever this is lies out in the ass end of nowhere, I needed to improvise."

Dean was still getting his head around Death saying "ass end of nowhere," when the ancient being said, looking at each of them in turn. "Well, what do we have here? The Winchester brothers. A fallen angel. A former prophet of God. And--" He broke off as he looked at Crowley. "And a--" He waved a hand and furrowed his brow. "Exactly what do you call a partially saved demon anyway?"

"Miserable," was Crowley's response.

Death nodded. "Yes, that would about sum it up." He glanced over at Dean. "Don't let him die anytime soon, will you?"

Dean frowned. Killing Crowley had always been high on his list, and he wasn't too happy to have a reason to move it down below, say, upgrading the stereo system on the Impala. "Why not?"

Death shrugged. "Honestly? Not sure which way to send him. Rather not have to deal with it right now. I have bigger problems." He whirled to spear Castiel with his gaze. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Cas bowed his head, hiding for a moment the complete misery which hadn't left his eyes in the last three days. "Yes. I destroyed most of Heaven, betrayed my friends and--"

Death cut him off before he could finish the now-painfully familiar litany. "Not that, you fool!"

The former angel glanced up, confusion in his blue eyes. "Then what?"

Death let out a long sigh and tapped his cane upon the ground. "Do you know how many people die in a single day?"

Sam furrowed his brow and then said, "About a quarter of a million?"

Dean shot his brother a look. How did he know this stuff anyway?

Death nodded. "Correct. And roughly half of them go up and the rest down." He paused and regarded them, obviously expecting them to get his point. Dean glanced around. Everyone's expression held confusion.

Then Sam's eyes widened. "Oh!"

A small smile played across Death's face. "The smart Winchester brother figures it out.'

Dean frowned, unhappy with the description but still not getting it.

Then Castiel's eyes widened. The good news? The misery left his features. The bad news? It was replaced with horror. "No! But he said-- No, it can't be true." His voice was shrill with barely restrained panic.

Dean made a sharp gesture with his hand. "Enough. Get to your point."

Kevin now looked like he got it. Only Crowley seemed to also be slow on the uptake.

Death let out a long sigh. "For the slower members of the class, then. Your angel--" and he pointed his cane at Castiel, "--closed the gates of Heaven."

"Yeah," Dean said. "We kind of got that when all the angels fell out of the sky."

"Dean," Sam said, his voice thready. "Closing the gates of Heaven didn't just expel all the angels. It also closed off Heaven to all the dead souls."

Oh. Dean sat down, trusting that his chair was actually behind him. Yeah, that would be bad. He did the quick mental math. "The gates have been closed for three days now. That's almost four hundred thousand souls. What have you done with them?"

Death glared at Crowley, who started to glare right back but then sighed and gave up his chair. The ancient being sat, placing his cane across his lap. "For the moment, they linger on. And, you of all people, Dean, know how dangerous that is."

Dean nodded, remembering all too well his own stint in the role of Death. Crowley and Kevin both gave him puzzled looks, but he ignored them. He'd fill them in later, if he thought they needed to know. "I imagine you can't hold that together much longer."

"No more than three, possibly four more days," came the calm reply.

Dean glanced over at Castiel, who was hunching in on himself. Yeah, as if he didn't have enough to feel guilty about. The hunter sighed. "All right. I assume you came here because you wanted us to clean it up. What do you want us to do?"

Death nodded in satisfaction. "I want you to do two things. One of you figure out how to open the gates again. As for the other, well, I really only have one choice for the souls who are Heaven-bound. Obviously, I can't send them to Hell. So the lesser of two evils is to send them to Purgatory."

Dean, Cas and Sam each gasped at that.

Death continued as if they hadn't reacted. "So I want the other of you to travel to Purgatory and create a safe haven for the souls, at least until the gates are open, and I can send them on to their rightful place."

Dean blinked. "You want us to create a safe haven in Purgatory? You know that's crazy, right? All those souls will be nothing but meat."

"Hence the 'safe haven,' yes. I'm responsible for those souls. I won't have them torn apart."

Dean wanted to make some comment about Death setting up his own damned safe haven, but he'd learned a long time ago not to mess with the Horseman.

"I assume you, Dean, are the logical choice for Purgatory since you've spent more time there than your brother, but it's your choice. Just make sure something is in place within the next 72 hours. I really can't let things go on much longer than that." He stood up and began moving to the door.

"Wait a minute," Kevin said. "How are we supposed to re-open the gates of Heaven? I'm not even sure how they closed in the first place."

Death half-turned, speaking over his shoulder. "I imagine the angel tablet has instructions for opening it, in addition to the instructions for closing it. If it were me, I'd start there."

Everyone looked at Kevin, who sighed and said, "Yeah, of course. I'll get right on that. Just what I wanted to do."

Death turned and began to walk out. "I'll leave you to your work. Just don't take long."

"Hey!" Dean said. "If you want us to go to Purgatory, how about you provide us with a way to get there."

Death paused and then turned back around. "Very well." He propped his cane against a nearby shelf and took a small notebook from his pocket. Then a gold-chased pen that looked like it might be worth more than the Impala, when she was new. He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Dean, who looked it over.

A few symbols. He thought they resembled Enochian, but they didn't look quite right. "What's this? A Reaper's phone number?"

Death put away his pad and pen before answering. "Essentially, yes. Burn that when you are ready to journey, and a Reaper will arrive to conduct you."

Right. Dean hoped they got Tessa. At least she was a decent sort.

Death picked up his cane and cocked an eyebrow at the motley group.

"Yeah, we're done," Dean said. "We'll do what we can."

Death nodded and made his slow stately way out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Dean turned to Sam. "I think he's right about me being the one to go to Purgatory. Think the rest of you can handle opening the gates of Heaven?"

Sam frowned. "You're not going alone."

"Of course I am. You'll need all the help you can get. I can organize a safe haven by myself." Actually, he wasn't as certain about that as he was trying to sound, but leaving Sam with Crowley? Hardly what he'd call help. Kevin would be fine, but he'd be needed to do the translation. So Sam needed Cas, who might snap out of his funk at the idea of opening up home. Surely that would cheer him up?

Sam shook his head. "No, Crowley and Kevin can help me. You're taking Cas." There was no room for argument in his tone, which didn't stop both Dean and the ex-angel.

Dean said, "Not a chance," at the same time Cas said, "I need to open Heaven."

"Stop. Both of you." Sam's voice was firm. He looked at Dean. "You will take someone. I'm not sending you there without someone to guard your back. Kevin needs to translate. Sending an almost ex-demon to Purgatory sounds like a terrible idea--"

Crowley nodded, the motion enthusiastic, at that.

"--which leaves Cas."

Dean knew when he could push his brother, and this wasn't one of those times. "Fine. Cas comes with me." He strode out of the room, heading for the kitchen. If he didn't leave right then, he'd probably hit something, and that wasn't going to make anything better.

***

Sam sighed as he watched his brother leave the room. He didn't really understand what was going on between Dean and Castiel. The two hadn't been speaking much before Angel Fall, and nothing had improved afterwards. If they didn't sort things out, the Purgatory mission was practically doomed to failure.

One thing at a time. Everyone needed marching orders.

"All right, Kevin. You get to translating."

The young man's mouth twisted in a sour expression, and he looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here. However, he nodded and went into the next room, where they'd stashed both tablets.

Sam looked over at the former angel, who was still standing where he'd been, a stunned look on his face. "Cas, I think we've got some lore on Purgatory in the library. See if you can figure out something that will make a safe haven even possible."

"What about me?" Crowley asked. Sam chose to interpret his tone as helpful.

"You and I are going on a supply run in a minute."

The ex-demon raised an eyebrow. "From King of Hell to errand boy. How the mighty have fallen."

Sam noticed he didn't actually sound that unhappy, more like he was playing a familiar role. So he ignored him. "I've got to talk to Dean, and then we'll leave."

He turned to Crowley, eyebrows raised in a question. "You know how to use a computer?"

Crowley took a step back, clapping a hand to his chest. "You wound me. I modernized Hell, and you ask if I can use a computer?"

Sam shrugged. "Cas is pretty useless on one. I thought you might be like him."

A rolled eye. "Comparing me to pretty boy there? I'm insulted."

"Take your hurt feelings with you to my laptop and check out Death's story. If fewer people than normal are dying, there should be something about it on the news." He started to leave the room but turned back to say over his shoulder, "And leave my bookmarks alone. Plus, no porn."

That startled a snort out of Kevin the next room.

Crowley grinned and sat down, opening the laptop to begin working.

Sam smiled to himself. That went well.

Cas followed him out of the room. "Sam?"

"No arguing, Cas. Other than me, you're the best one to guard Dean's back, and we both know it."

The fallen angel sighed and headed for the library.

Sam continued down the hallway to the kitchen. His brother was standing in front of the fridge, door open, staring at nothing. Sam stepped forward and closed the door.

"Dean?"

The hunter looked up. "What?"

It wasn't the friendliest tone, but Sam had heard worse so he went in. "Look, man, I don't know what's up with you and Cas, but you've got to work it out before you go. You're going to have to be a team, and that's just not the way you're clicking right now."

Dean let out a long sigh. "I know. You're right, Sammy, but-- I'm still pissed at him for not trusting me with the tablet, and I'm not sure he's quite right in the head yet. Makes it hard to know where to start."

Something had changed with Dean recently. He was more willing to talk about what he was feeling, and Sam was glad to see it. He'd had enough of dragging things out of his brother in bits and pieces. And he thought he might have an answer to at least part of this.

"Look, man. You and I weren't exactly seeing things the same way for a while. It's like you said when you stopped me from finishing the trials. You'd said some stuff that I took one way and you'd meant another way. Maybe the same thing is going on with you and Cas. Ever think of that?"

Dean nodded, the motion slow. "Actually, yes, but I'm not sure where to start."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Simple. Go ask him."

His brother's face cleared. "Well, when you say it like that, it does sound simple."

Sam grinned. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

Dean gave him an answering smile. "All right. I'll give it a try." He stood up, but before leaving he asked, "Did I hear you say you're taking Crowley on a supply run?"

Sam nodded and lowered his voice. He wasn't sure which, if any, of his powers Crowley retained, but he wanted to play it safe in case super hearing was one of them. "Yeah. I wanted to get him off by himself for a bit."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. One, I want to see if he'll tell me which of his powers he still has. I mean, Cas didn't lose everything all at once the year he fell. Maybe Crowley still has some mojo, and I want to find out what it is."

"Think he'll tell you?" Left unsaid was the question, "And if he turns on you, what can you do about it?" Sam was still feeling the effects of not finishing the ritual, but he was getting good at ignoring the residual pain.

Sam shrugged and answered the spoken question. "Maybe. I think he'll tell me before anyone else. We sort of ... I don't know ... shared a moment back at the chapel."

Now it was Dean's turn to grin. "Something you want to tell me, Sammy?"

Sam punched his brothers' shoulder. "Not like that, jerk."

"Bitch," came the expected reply.

It felt good. It had been a long time since they'd shared the familiar exchange.

"So, what's the second reason?"

Sam hesitated, not sure how to put his instincts into words. "I think Crowley is suffering. I mean, he covers it with his customary attitude, but I think deep down he's really hurting. I'm going to give him room to talk about it, if he wants to."

Dean's eyebrows rose into his hairline, and he cocked his head.

Sam lowered his head, red rising in his cheeks. "It's not like that, but...well, I kind of feel responsible for him, and, like it or not, he's one of us now. "

Dean nodded slowly. "That's good instincts, Sam. Go for it. For what it's worth, I think you're right. No way I could have stood talking to him. If you can, good on you." He slapped Sam's shoulder.

His brother's approval warmed Sam. They'd not been in sync with each other for far too long. Seemed unfair that they got it back right as they had to separate again.

"All right. I'll go talk to Cas, and you see what you can get out of Crowley."

Sam nodded, and they both left the room.

***

Dean knew where to find Castiel. Even if he hadn't overheard Sam tell him to research Purgatory, the library was always the place to look for the fallen angel. He did have his own room, but he spent as little time in there as possible. Cas wasn't dealing well with being human, and Dean knew he should cut the guy some slack, but something in him wouldn’t soften enough to allow it.

How had they gotten to this point? A few months ago, Cas had been comfortable enough to admit he was considering suicide, and now they didn't talk at all? When had that happened? Dean squared his shoulders. It didn't matter how it had happened. Sam was right. It was past time to fix this.

When he got to the library, he noticed the light, dim, just peeking around the corner. Dean knew that meant Cas was in the chair by the shelves.

He went to the doorway and just stood, a smile on his face. Cas had finally abandoned the trench coat and suit. He'd borrowed a pair of Dean's jeans and one of Sam's shirts, which, while too long in the arms, fit better across his shoulders. Dean thought he looked oddly like a little kid playing dress-up.

"Cas?" he said, knocking on the door frame.

Castiel glanced up from the book on his lap. "Dean. I think I've found something."

Dean moved into the room, grabbed a chair and turned it around, sitting in it backwards, arms crossed on the chair back. "Yeah, that's good, Cas, but that's not why I'm here."

Blue eyes, shadowed in the dim light, flickered from the book to Dean's chest and back down. "All right."

He figured he deserved that. Just about every conversation they'd had since the Fall had ended in a fight. Made sense Cas would be nervous. "Look, man. I'm not here to ride your ass. It's just--"

"I'm sorry, Dean."

The hunter had to bite back his irritation. That had become his refrain. A near-constant litany of apology. He took a deep breath and started again. This time it was his turn to drop his eyes and regard his hands. "Cas, stop apologizing."

"Dean, just accept--"

Dean looked up, met Castiel's eyes and said, "Stop. Just stop. Look, we both know I suck at this, so just let me get it out, okay."

"Okay, Dean." His fingers toyed with the book in his lap, turning pages at random.

"Cas, I know it's been bad between us. I was...angry when I thought you didn't trust me with the tablet. I mean, after everything we'd gone through, and you still didn't trust me."

"Dean--"

Dean waved a hand, the gesture sharp. "No, let me finish. I'd said some stuff to Sam recently that he took one way, not the way I'd meant it, but I could see why he thought I had." He stopped and took another deep breath. "What I'm saying, man, is that maybe it was like that with you. I heard one thing. But maybe that wasn't really what you meant to say."

He looked up, meeting blue eyes, willing him to understand what he was trying to say.

Cas met his gaze, and some of the misery that had been in his eyes for days, weeks maybe, eased. "Dean. I--" He swallowed hard before continuing. "You know that my mind hasn't been my own for a while now. Leviathan, Purgatory and then Naomi."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I do know." And felt like a heel for not giving Cas the benefit of the doubt.

The former angel continued. "Naomi messed with my head in ways I still can't comprehend. Touching the tablet broke some of her hold, but not all of it. I couldn't get my words out the way I meant them, so I said...what I said. And I understand why you heard it that way."

"So, what did you really mean?"

"I knew she'd do anything to get it back. Including kill you if you got in her way." A small smile crept across his face. "And I know Dean Winchester."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I'd get in her way."

"Exactly. What I meant to say was, 'I need to keep you safe from the tablet.' But it all came out mixed up and wrong."

He met Dean's gaze. "I'm so sorry for that. I wanted to tell you--"

Dean shook his head. "I know, man. I never gave you the chance. I was pissed. I'd heard what I'd expected to hear, and I was kind of a dick. I'm the one who should be apologizing, not you."

Cas let out a long breath, and his shoulders relaxed for a moment, before he leaned forward, tension back in his body.

"What, man? We're good, right?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes, we're good. But, Dean-- There's more. I'm not sure how--"

Dean shifted on his chair, wanting to touch Castiel in some way, but not sure how to break past the barriers they'd put up between them. "Just tell me, then."

"I'm afraid you'll get angry again."

Dean let out a huff. "Since when has that stopped you?" When he saw his feeble attempt at a joke hadn't eased anything, he sighed and said, "Just tell me. I promise I won't get angry. Or if I do, I'll walk away, let it out and then come back and let you finish. Okay?"

Cas nodded. "That's fair." He paused and then began. "The thing is. Naomi was in and out of my head so much that I don't know what's real anymore."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean? She messed with your memories too?"

A nod. "Yes."

Dean leaned back, forgetting he had nothing at his back and caught himself before he fell over. He hadn't expected this. Cas was looking down at his lap again. He'd put the book aside on a table and was knotting and unknotting the hem of his shirt.

"Okay, man. Let's try this. Tell me what you remember, and I'll tell you if it's true or not."

Cas looked up, hope spreading slowly across his face. "You'd do that?"

Dean shrugged. "Sure. Hell, after the crap I've put you through recently, it's the least I can do."

Cas started slowly. "Deal with Crowley?"

"True."

"Recovering Sam and then breaking his wall."

"True." Dean couldn't keep the pain from his voice at that.

Cas winced but kept on going. "Leviathan and devastating Heaven."

"Sorry, man. True." The words felt like ash in his mouth.

Castiel closed his eyes. "I thought so." A moment later. "Walking into the river?"

Dean would never forget that moment. "True."

"Coming back out, losing my memory and you finding me again?"

"True."

Cas shrank in on himself, shoulders hunched. "Going to the hospital, killing the demons outside and remembering myself again."

"True."

Arms wrapped around himself, voice so quiet Dean had to lean forward to hear. "Walking away and leaving Sam like he was."

Dean's eyes widened. "No, man. Not true. That's how you remember it?'

Cas looked up, a bit of hope lighting his eyes. "That's not true?"

"No way. You .... you healed Sam by taking his crazy into you. Drove you insane for months. That's why you were at the hospital with Meg taking care of you."

Cas unfolded, sitting up straighter in his chair. "I remember waking up at the hospital and feeling ... I don't even know how to describe it. Unbalanced. Not myself. I remember seeing that Sam was okay, and wondering how it could have happened. And then killing Dick Roman and ending up in Purgatory."

"You healed Sam. Trust me on this. I was there." Another memory he'd never lose. Seeing the angry red glow spread from Castiel's hands, up through his body. And then the look of horror on his face as he saw...whatever he saw. He shook his head. "No, Naomi changed that one."

Cas frowned. "I wonder why."

Dean shrugged. "Don't know why that bitch did anything. I guess the more guilt you carried, the easier it was for her to manipulate you."

Cas nodded, the motion slow. "That might be."

"You don't sound so certain."

"I'm not. Something's telling me that's important."

"Well, we can figure that out later. For now, just know that one's wrong. You healed Sammy, and I'll never forget it."

Cas looked at Dean, his expression hesitant again.

"What?"

"There's one more thing I need to know, and I'm afraid it will cause you some discomfort."

"Hell, this whole conversation has been uncomfortable. What's one more thing?"

Cas took a deep breath. "I remember falling in love with you."

Dean should have seen that coming. It wasn't like he'd been unaware of how Cas felt. Really, you don't hear, "I did it. I did it all for you," and not get a clue.

He must have taken too long to respond because Cas picked up his book and started to get up. "I'm sorry--"

God but Dean was tired of hearing those words. He put out an arm to stop him. "No, don't leave. Sit down, Cas."

He did so, brows furrowed, blue eyes filled with pain.

Dean took a deep breath, knowing he had to get this right. He could screw up with Sam. They had decades of history between them. He and Cas didn't have that. And much of their history was screwed up anyway.

"I can't see into your head, Cas, so I can't know for sure, but I'm pretty sure that one's true too."

Cas nodded. "I see." His voice was completely flat. "Thank you for that. I know you don't feel the same way, so--"

"No, Cas. You don't _know_ what I'm feeling any more than I know what you are."

The former angel closed his mouth, swallowed and finally said. "What do you mean?" There was just the tiniest bit of hope in his tone.

Dean closed his eyes. No way he could look at anyone while he said this. "Look, man. I'm not really an 'in touch with my feelings' guy, but I do know this. When you walked into that river, something in me died. Hell, it was months before I felt like I could properly take a breath. Then you were back, but not really. And then gone. And back and then gone. And--" Dean wasn't sure he hadn't messed up the count, but did it really matter?

Apparently not. He heard Castiel's soft chuckle. "I get the idea, Dean."

Dean opened his eyes to see Cas leaning forward, his hands almost on Dean's chair. "Anyway, I don't know if that's...love or something else. And it's not like I've had time to sort it all out anyway. But I'll promise you this. The minute I have some spare time, like when I'm not saving the fucking world...again...I'll figure it out and let you know what I feel. Okay?"

Cas reached out a hand, the motion hesitant. Dean reached back and took it, twining their fingers together for just a moment.

"Fair enough," Cas said, his voice soft, almost reverent.

Dean nodded and squeezed Castiel's hand once before letting go and standing up. "Now, you said you'd found something. Let's plan some strategy and get this thing done."

Cas followed him to the main room, and they bent over the table, sketching out their plan. Together.

***

Sam left Dean to sort things out, and dropped in on Kevin. "Need anything? I'm heading to the Gas N Sip a couple miles out of town."

Kevin glanced up from the tablet. "Red Bull. Lots of it. I'll need it if you want me to translate this thing in a hurry."

"You've got it."

"And tofu dogs, if they have them."

Sam frowned. "Not sure I'll manage that, but I'll see if I can find something you can eat."

"Thanks." He looked back down, scowling at the inscribed stone in front of him. "And to think I thought I was done with this."

Sam didn't think that last comment had been aimed at him, and he ignored it in favor of going to pick up Crowley. "Come on."

Crowley looked up from the computer. "You barely gave me time to open a browser, must less find anything useful."

"Plenty of time for that when we get back. For now, I need you with me."

The demon huffed out a breath but closed the laptop lid. Sam could just make out a browser, and he didn't see any porn. Maybe he'd actually done as he'd been told. That was a first.

Crowley waited until they were well down the road before saying, "Guessing I'm here for more than my ability to carry bags."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I could handle the carrying part on my own. But don't let me forget the pie. Dean'll kill me, otherwise."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Sam grinned at him. "That's actually why you're here."

"To let Dean kill you?"

Sam snorted. "Hardly. No, more to figure out your motivation in all this. I mean, Death basically made you part of the team. Guessing that's not your first choice."

Crowley lifted an eyebrow. "I don't remember him picking me to be part of Team Free Will."

"How'd you know about that?" Sam had thought only he and Dean had ever used the term.

"Seriously? King of Hell, remember. I have my sources."

Sam let it go. "No matter. I'm pretty sure Death intended you to be a part of this. Which tells me he knows something he hasn't shared with the rest of us. Any ideas?"

"Not a one."

That was as much honesty as he'd ever heard in Crowley's voice. "Okay, then." How to put this? "Look, I know we didn't finish the salvation ritual, but I do know you were at least resigned at the end. In fact, I'm thinking you even wanted it, on some level."

He watched Crowley take a deep breath, and he expected some sarcastic comment. However, what came out was, "I can't say you're wrong."

Sam blinked. "Really?"

Crowley made a sharp gesture of frustration. "It's complicated. Everything I did as a demon. A part of me remembers the enjoyment of causing pain and suffering. Another part of me cringes from it. Honestly not sure which is the real 'me' now. Still don't know where I'd begin to start with the forgiveness thing, but ... maybe that is what I want now. Haven't really had a chance to think it all through."

"Do you want us to complete the ritual?"

Crowley cocked his head. "I thought you couldn't. Something about backing down from closing the Gates of Hell and killing you."

Sam shook his head. "The trial's over. The ritual can be performed by itself. Dean or Cas could do it."

A shudder passed through the demon. "No thank you to either of them. I don't think I could live with myself afterwards."

Sam shrugged. "Then if it's what you want, I'll do it."

Crowley was a long time answering. When he finally did, his voice was slow and thoughtful. "Don't know if this will make sense. I know what Christian theology says on salvation. Accept the big guy as your savior and you're saved. You know?"

"Yeah, I know that," Sam said, still not sure what Crowley was getting at.

"Well, it's all so easy isn't it? And your ritual is the same. Slap a bloody handprint on me, and 'Poof!' I'm saved." He shook his head. "I don't think it's supposed to be that easy for someone like me. I think I'm supposed to fight for it."

Sam nodded. "I can see that. So that's a 'no,' then."

"It's a no." Crowley's voice was certain.

"Well, in that case, you're going to be part-demon for all this. Which leads me to my next question."

"Another? You're like a little kid, you know."

Sam grinned. "You should have heard how I drove Dean crazy when I was little. Anyway. My question is this. You've been weakened some, I guess. So how much mojo do you have left?"

"You mean, what can I still do?" Crowley lifted up his arm, where the shackle still remained. The brothers had broken off the chain, so it sat on his arm like a weird bangle.

"Yeah." Sam's voice was soft. Would Crowley actually answer?

A sigh. Then, "Obviously, the fast healing's gone." The fading bruises on his face were a testament to that. "I'm still stronger than a human, but not close to what I was." He glanced down at the shackle. "As long as this is still in place, I can't be certain, but I think I still have some of my TK ability. And of course, there's still witchcraft. Nothing you did took that away."

Sam let out a breath. It seemed Crowley was willing to be honest, or at least as honest as you could expect from something like him. They approached the Gas N Sip, and Sam slowed down to make the turn.

"Okay, then. That's good."

"Why?" Crowley asked.

Sam nodded in the direction of the store. "Well, for starters because I don't like the look of that."

Crowley looked out the window. Several men were gathered outside the station. Their eyes were black.

"Oh," Crowley said. "That's a good reason." He glanced over at Sam. "Still planning to stop?"

The tall man nodded. "Yes. We need the supplies."

"And how do you plan to get past them?"

Sam grinned and pulled up his shirt to show Ruby's knife at his belt.

"That's good for you."

Sam parked the Impala and leaned over to fumble below Crowley's seat. The ex-demon looked down. "Mighty personal for a first date."

Sam found what he was looking for and sat up. "Here." He handed Crowley an angel blade.

Crowley hefted it, looked at Sam and back out the window. He smiled. "That does even things out, doesn't it?"

"I thought so."

Crowley looked at the blade again. "Where'd you get it?"

Sam shrugged. "Picked it up along the way. You ready?"

"After you, mate."

Sam got out of the car, hand on the knife at his belt. He heard the passenger door open, and a moment later Crowley stood beside him, angel blade held in a fighting grip. He counted quickly. Five demons. If he'd had Dean at his side, he'd have been cautious but reasonably confident. But what about Crowley? Would he turn traitor at the last minute?

One of the demons approached. His meat suit was that of a farmer, fat over muscle. He was almost half a foot shorter than Sam. If he was the one in charge, this looked possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" the demon asked, a sneer spreading across his broad face. "Crowley."

"That's the King of Hell to you."

The demon spat to one side. "Former King. Word is that you've been neutered."

The rest of the demons laughed at that, and Sam felt Crowley tense beside him. Sam gripped his knife, but then he felt his erstwhile ally brush his shoulder. Hoping he'd read the message correctly, he relaxed his hand. However, he remained ready.

"Who's in the lead to replace me?"

The lead demon grinned and thumped his chest. "I'm in the running, and bringing your head back will seal the deal." His eyes shifted to Sam. "Adding in a Winchester will just be gravy." He motioned the other four demons forward, and Sam drew his knife.

The next few moments passed by in a blur. The first demon to attack Sam was overconfident and got ahead of himself. Sam grabbed his arm, pulled him off balance, finishing him off with a quick thrust with Ruby's knife. Angry red light glowed from the wound, and the demon fell.

Crowley finished his off with as much ease, white light instead of red streaming forth from the enemy demon's chest.

Sam risked a quick glance to his side. Crowley's eyes glowed red, and he was smiling. Nice to see someone was having a good time. Pain ripped through him, and he had to work at pushing it down, focusing on the fight. Just the fight.

The next demon was more cautious. He had a knife too, and they circled for a moment before Sam found an opening where he could take advantage of his longer reach. Another demon down.

Crowley yelped, and Sam turned to see the last two demons pressing him hard. His hand was pressed tight to his side, blood spurting from between his fingers. Sam moved. Everyone expected someone his size to be slow, and the leader demon was no exception. Sam thrust between two ribs. The demon went down hard. That gave Crowley just enough breathing space to slash out with the angel blade, taking the remaining demon across the throat.

Just like that, the fight was over. Sam wiped Ruby's knife on the shirt of the leader while Crowley did the same with the last demon he'd killed. Then they both turned to face each other, blades ready. Sam looked Crowley directly in the eye. After a moment, the ex-demon smiled, reversed the angel blade and handed it over.

"Better not forget the pie."

That had been about the last thing he'd expected. Sam huffed out a laugh as he took the blade. He tossed it back in the Impala, sheathed his own knife and started for the store.

As they gathered supplies, Sam said, "So the jockeying for position down below begins."

Crowley glanced up from where he'd assembled enough first aid supplies to bind his wound. Sam made a mental note to leave a bit of extra money behind to pay for those as well.

The ex-demon said, "Hell, that started the minute I claimed the throne. All my departure has done is make it more intense. We are talking demons, after all. Authority issues, you know."

"I guess." Sam waved a hand at Crowley's side. He was clearly having trouble fastening the clumsy bandage. "Want some help with that?" He watched the ex-demon's eyes closely. Refusal followed by resignation passed through them. Finally, Crowley shrugged. "It has been a while."

Sam leaned over and pulled up Crowley's shirt, to get a better look at the wound. It was shallow, but blood still seeped around the sloppy bandage. "I don't think it needs stitches, but let me clean it well and re-bandage." His hands moved quickly, and a few minutes later, he nodded. "That should do it."

Crowley looked down and examined Sam's work. "You're good at that."

Sam shrugged. "Had lots of practice. As you know."

They finished gathering supplies, not speaking. The silence was comfortable, though.

Sam bagged up everything, carefully placing a cherry pie on top of the last bag. "That everything?"

Crowley shrugged. "I think so." He glanced out the window at the dead demons. "If not, we come back. No one left to argue with us."

"True enough."

Sam tossed a few twenties on the counter, and they headed back to the Impala.

***

When they arrived back at the bunker, Dean shot Sam a questioning look and the taller brother returned the look with a reassuring nod. Satisfied, Dean moved to grab some of the bags and help put everything away. Naturally, he made sure to take the bag with the pie and as soon as the supplies were stowed, he cut himself a piece and wandered back to the main room, plate in hand. His brother was already at his desk, nose in a book. Dean noticed the blood on Sam's sleeve and frowned.

"Sammy? What happened?"

His brother shrugged, not even looking up from his book. "A few demons took exception to our shopping trip."

Dean's head shot in the direction of Crowley, who was loading shells with salt. The substance didn't seem to bother him now, and it was something he could do. Although he could read and write every modern language, plus Enochian, he didn't know anything _old_ which made him less than useful at research. Hence, loading shells and other non-research tasks.

"Not to worry, mate," Crowley said, his voice even. "We took care of it. Hardly even broke a sweat."

Dean glanced back at his brother, who sighed and said, "Let it go, Dean. We're fine. I'm fine. Crowley pulled his weight."

The older hunter wasn't likely to ever trust the ex-demon, but he did trust his brother, and if Sam said it was okay, he'd go along with it. For now.

Just then Kevin looked up from his translation. "Guys, I think I found something."

Everyone gathered around, including Cas, who had heard and emerged from the library. Even Crowley joined the group, although he stayed on the opposite side of the table from Dean.

"What do you have?" Sam asked.

Kevin shook his head. "Nothing about what the trials actually are yet. But I do know who needs to do them."

Dean frowned. "It specifies someone this time. Not just anyone?"

"Nope." He looked at Dean, red-rimmed eyes holding an emotion the hunter couldn't quite read. "It's pretty specific." He held up the tablet. "To open the Gates to Paradise, three trials must be faced and conquered by a man whose blood runs black with that of demon-kind."

Dean looked at Sam, whose face was grim but determined. The younger hunter nodded. "Guess that mean me."

"No," The word was said in unison by both Cas and Crowley, who looked at each other and grimaced, also in unison. It would have been funny if Dean hadn't been reeling from the implication.

"No? What do you mean 'no?'" he asked.

Crowley inclined his head to the former angel. "Your story to tell, mate."

Cas sighed and took a step back as both Winchester brothers turned to look at him. "When I brought Sam back, I brought him back without the taint of demon blood. I thought it would be a good thing."

Emotions warred within Dean. Relief, anger, shock. "And you didn't think to tell us until now?"

Cas shrugged and waved a hand. "It's not like I had a chance. At first I didn't want to tell you I was the one who'd raised Sam. Then Leviathans, followed by dead, followed by crazy--"

Dean nodded and cut him off. "Yeah, I get it. Well, we know now. And I guess it's a good thing. Inconvenient, but a good thing. Does beg the question of who will do the trials, then."

Crowley cleared his throat behind him. Everyone turned to face him. He shrugged and said, voice mild, "Guess it's a good thing I turned down Sam's offer to finish saving me."

Dean's gaze shot to Sam, who shook his head in a _later, man_ gesture.

Then Sam looked at Crowley with something resembling sympathy in his hazel eyes. "You sure about that?"

The demon shrugged. "Like you said, Death had his reasons for including me on the team. Looks like he knew this already."

Dean huffed out a breath. "And you're suddenly okay with the destiny thing? You expect me to believe that?"

Crowley shrugged and turned to leave the room. "Believe what you will." His voice was both sharp and sad, which struck Dean as an odd combination. "Call me when you know what impossible task I'm supposed to perform first."

Dean turned to Kevin, who was already back hunched over the tablets. "Right, then. Sam, a word?"

He gave Castiel a pointed look, and the angel nodded and went back to the library, presumably to do more research. Sam watched him go and then followed Dean to his room. As soon as they got there, Dean closed the door and turned to his brother. "Okay, Sammy. Spill. What did you and the former King of Hell talk about while you were gone?"

Sam shifted from one leg to another. "Pretty much what it sounded like. I asked him if he wanted us to complete the ritual, and he said no."

"Why?"

Sam shrugged. "He said it was too easy. That if he were going to be saved, it was right that he have to work for it."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "And you believed him?"

"Yeah, I did," Sam said, raising his voice and making his tone firm. "Trust me. I know how he feels."

"Really? You know what it's like to have tortured people, for fun, for centuries and then all of a sudden you want to be saved. And to have to work at it?"

Sam turned away, shoulders tensed. "Yeah, actually I do have a better idea than you'd think." He turned back to face Dean, who noticed moisture in the corners of his brother's eyes. "No, I haven't tortured anyone, I guess--well, not while I had a soul anyway--but I've hurt people, and I've screwed up, and I definitely know what it's like to have people not trust you."

Dean winced as that cut a little close to home.

Sam continued, "I also know that it would have helped--a lot--if someone had trusted me through all that. Maybe I didn't always deserve the trust. I get that. But knowing that someone was in my corner? Yeah, that might have made a difference."

"Sammy. I was always in your corner."

Sam shook his head. "No, Dean, you weren't. Not always. And it's okay, man. I understand why you weren't. Why you couldn't always be. I did plenty of stuff to make you doubt me. And trust me, the minute Crowley screws up, I'll handle it. But until then, I'll give him what I can."

Dean knew his brother well enough to know that all this emotion hadn't just appeared along with Kevin's announcement and Cas and Crowley's revelation. "You've been on edge since the angels fell. This why?"

Sam sat down on the bed. "Yes and no. Part of it, I guess, though what you said, just before I decided to stop the ritual-- That cleared up most everything between you and me."

Dean was relieved to hear that. It had hurt to hear how Sammy had interpreted some of what he'd said. It hurt particularly because Dean had to be honest with himself. There had been more than a little truth to what Sam had said, and he hoped they could move past it and go back to just being brothers and there for each other.

"So, what was the rest?"

Sam sighed. "I really didn't want to go into this with you."

Dean's eyebrows went up, and he moved his chair close to the bed and sat down. "What does that mean?"

He watched a range of emotions cross his brother's face and waited it through. Finally, Sam said, "Okay. It's like this. I was ready to die, you know. I'd figured what the trial meant, and I was okay with it. At the end, at least?"

"What?"

Sam looked down at the coverlet. "This was why I hadn't wanted to say anything. I knew you'd react that way."

"Well, yeah. It's not every day that your brother tells you he wanted to die. How was I supposed to react?"

Sam was shaking his head. "No, it's not that I _wanted_ to die. I was ready for it. After all the times I've screwed up, I figured I finally had something really good to make up for it. If I had to die? Well, that's the price, sometimes. They don't call it a 'sacrifice' for nothing."

"Nothing you've done is worth you dying, man. I hope you know that."

"I do. And don't worry. I don't feel that way now. I'm all with the living now."

Dean let out a sigh of relief, and Sam smiled at him. "I know what me dying does to you, believe me. I can't say I was thinking completely straight at the time. But when you think you're ready to go, and then you don't? Well, let's just say it messes with your thinking for a while."

"But you're okay now?"

Sam nodded, the motion firm and confident. "Yeah, I'm okay now." Dean saw him wince and rub his arms, but he knew better than to comment on it. Sam continued, "But I still kind of get where Crowley is coming from. And I'm thinking there'll be a sacrifice for him too. I mean, I would have needed to die to close the Hell gates. Cas has been pretty vague about what happened with the angel gate, but, well, he's human now. If that's not a sacrifice, what is? Which makes me wonder. What's Crowley going to need to do?"

Dean decided not to mention that he was glad Cas had brought his brother back without demon blood. He suspected Sam was right about the sacrifice angle, and he was ridiculously glad his brother wasn't in the hot seat for this one.

He clapped Sammy on his shoulder. "Okay, man. Thanks for telling me what was going on. I've got enough to worry about, what with going to Purgatory and you staying here with the King of Hell."

"Former King," Sam said. He paused and then asked. "What about you and Cas?"

Dean shrugged. "We talked." How much to say? On the one hand, he didn't really want to talk about it. On the other, Sam had just trusted him with some heavy shit. And if he couldn't tell his brother, who could he tell? He took a deep breath and said, "Cas said his memory's really screwed from what Naomi did. He ran some stuff past me, to figure out what was true and what wasn't."

"Like what?"

"Most of it was stuff that really did happen, but apparently Naomi made him think he'd walked away from you and left your wall down."

Sam sat up straight. "You told him the truth, right?"

"Of course, I did. And he was real glad to learn he'd helped you."

"I'll say. So, he didn't really know about his being crazy for a while?”

Dean shrugged. "We didn't talk about it. I think he knows, but maybe he wasn't sure why he'd been crazy. We'll probably have to sort out some more stuff before this is all over."

Sam was giving him a look Dean knew all too well. It was the _you know you haven't fooled me at all_ look. "There was more, wasn't there?" It wasn't really a question.

Dean sighed. "Yeah. He needed to check something else." He stopped, not sure he could make himself say the words.

"What?" Sam finally said when Dean hadn't spoken for at least a minute.

"He wanted to know if he really was in love with me or if that was something else Naomi added."

Sam didn't say anything for a while. Instead he got that look that meant he was working things out and making connections. Dean forced himself not to fidget. Finally, Sam said, "I guess you told him that was the truth."

Dean let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Sam's voice was completely matter of fact. "Yeah. I said I didn't know for sure, not being in his head, but that I was pretty sure it was true."

Sam was nodding. "I'd suspected as much for a while. It was kind of obvious."

"And you're okay with it?"

Sam nodded, his eyes widening. "Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be? I mean--" He trailed off. "You mean you're actually going to tell him you feel the same way?"

Dean shot out of his chair and was halfway to the door before his brain caught up. "What?" was all he could say.

Sam cocked his head. "I mean, it's obvious you feel the same way. I just never thought you'd actually get around to saying it. And with Cas having been an angel and all, I figured he was holding back. Now that he's human, though--"

Dean paced back and forth. It had been obvious to Sam? Well, duh. No one knew him as well as his brother, but to think that Sam had been more aware than Dean had been. Well, that wasn't that much of a surprise either. Sam had always been more comfortable with emotions.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was soft, concerned.

Dean sat back down in his chair. "I don't know, Sammy. Like you, when I thought about it...which wasn't often...I guess I thought the angel thing was in the way too. And sometimes I managed to convince myself I wasn't feeling what I thought I was. I mean, friendship, yeah. But...something else?"

Sam was smiling. "Dean, you were way too broken up after Cas walked into the reservoir for it to have been just friendship."

Dean stifled a shudder at the sudden image of Cas walking into the water. And the coat coming back, empty.

"I mean, even Bobby saw it," Sam continued. "He never once ragged you for it. Unlike some choice things he said to me after Ruby--"

Dean was nodding. "Yeah, I wasn't good for much those days, being way too deep in the bottle and all, but I kind of noticed that." He shook his head. "I just don't know, Sammy. I've not always had the best track record with people I care about."

Sam snorted. "Like I've been much better. The Sam Winchester curse and all."

Dean couldn't help grinning at that, but it didn't last.

"Hey, Dean. It's okay. You can say the word 'love' and not burst into pink flowers or anything. Like I said, it's been obvious you're crazy about the guy."

"But that's the thing, Sammy. He's a guy."

Sam scratched the back of his head. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Dean blinked. "He's a guy. I'm a guy--"

Sam grinned at him. "Dude. You’re my brother. I don't care about that. If he makes you happy, I'm okay with that. Besides, you going all schoolgirl crush over Doctor Sexy was kind of a clue. I'd have said something then if it had been a problem for me."  
  
"I was not like that!"

"Oh, yeah, you were." His voice softened. "Seriously, it's okay, man. I don't care." He paused. "You did tell him, didn't you?"

Dean shook his head. "No, I said I'd think about it when we had a breather."

Sam looked doubtful. "I don't know. I mean, you're about to head to Purgatory. You might want to give him something more definite. It's dangerous there."

Dean stood up and paced back and forth again. "I don't know if I can. I still have some stuff to sort through."

Sam stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. It felt good. Together. "I think you should tell him. He hasn’t looked so good ever since he became human. It might give him something to hang on to."

Dean realized Sam was right. But could he say it? Really?

Sam smiled. "I get it. I do. Just. Don't wait until it's too late, okay?"

Dean nodded as Sam left. He had some thinking to do. Too bad there wasn't really time.

***

Sam watched people. Most of the time they didn't know because he'd perfected the art of looking without being obvious about it. He'd had to learn the skill to keep an eye on his dad and brother, neither of which were forthcoming about their feelings, or often even what was really going on. Over the years, he'd figured out that he could learn a lot by just watching. When he got so tall that everyone noticed him, he'd just had to learn to be more subtle about it.

Even Dean didn't know how good he was at watching people, which was good because his brother was target number one for his observations.

As usual, Dean took the weight of the entire situation on his shoulders. Admittedly, he had come through the Angel Fall better than anyone, except maybe Kevin, but still--

Between doing research, mistrusting Crowley, making Kevin eat and sleep occasionally and worrying about his brother, the elder Winchester had enough on his shoulders.

Which is why it was too bad Castiel was dealing so badly with being human, because, of course, Dean thought he had to fix that too.

Cas had shown up at the bunker just a few hours after the angels had fallen. He hadn't said much. He'd been shivering and obviously in shock. Dean had taken him in as though nothing had happened, but Sam had known better. He hadn't seen much point in saying anything. After passing out for nearly twelve hours, Cas has come to, said he was now human, and refused to talk about anything else that had happened to him.

So far it didn't seem like Cas liked anything about being human. Take eating. Such a simple thing. Except when you realized that his body hadn't needed food for years. Apparently becoming human overnight was tough on a body's digestion. The first couple of meals had gone down okay. Then his digestive system caught up. Sam would never forget the results of that.

Add in the fact that apparently Jimmy had been allergic to peanuts. It would have been nice if someone had bothered to mention that fact years ago. And only peanuts. Not other nuts. The pecan pie he'd eaten the day before had been fine. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich, however, had him collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath.

Good thing Kevin was allergic to bee stings and always kept an epi-pen on him. Sam was sure they would have lost Castiel that night otherwise.

But food was only part of it. He also hated to sleep. Sam wasn't sure why. Dean said something about "nightmares,"—Sam could hear the quotes when his brother said it, which meant Sam suspected it was more than that. As a result, Cas avoided sleeping until his body literally stopped. Sam couldn't recommend a sleep-deprived former angel as a roommate.

The only thing that seemed to make Cas happy was research. Since he still retained his language ability, he spent almost all of his waking hours in the library, reading the volumes no one else could understand.

Which did turn out to be handy three days after Death had given his ultimatum. Everyone was on edge, knowing they were running out of time. Dean had been watching the news, and even the general population was starting to notice something mighty odd about how few people were dying. Hospitals weren't at a critical point yet, but it was getting close.

Just as Sam was figuring Death was about to pay them another visit, Cas emerged from the library, a huge tome in his hands.

"I think I've found something."

Dean shot from his chair and hustled over to the former angel. "What do you have?"

Cas put the book down on the table, and Sam stood up to look at it. He couldn't read it. "What's that in? Sumerian?"

Cas nodded. "It's one of the few works that has anything useful about Purgatory, which surprised me. The Sumerians didn't believe in Purgatory, per se, and so I had left their works until the end. In hindsight, a mistake."

His shame was painfully apparent, and Dean reached over to clap his shoulder. "It's okay. You've found something now. What is it?"

"It appears to be a warding spell that works against the monsters in Purgatory."

Everyone went silent for a moment. Finally, Dean smiled. "That's it! That's the piece we've been missing." He looked at everyone in turn. "You see, Cas and I both remember a place in Purgatory. It's near the portal back to our world, so we've got a way home. It's in a valley, so it's defensible, and we think it's big enough to fit everyone, assuming they don't mind close quarters. But 'defensible' and 'safe' aren't the same thing. If Cas hadn't been able to find this, we would have made do, but an actual ward is awesome."

Something resembling a smile crept over Castiel's face. "Yes, Dean." Then his expression grew grave. "There is just one problem."

Dean's face fell. "What's that?"

"Most of the ingredients for the ward are straightforward. I checked. We have everything we need. Except the most important one."

"Which is?" Sam asked.

"Blood willingly spilled by a monster." Cas shook his head. "I don't see any way to get that in Purgatory. No one will be willing to help us. Not and give up a ready source of food."

Sam felt a smile cross his face, and he glanced over to his brother, who was also grinning.

"Not a problem, Cas. We've got what we need."

Cas cocked his head. "How is that?"

"You're thinking Benny, aren't you, Dean?" Sam asked. It just happened that he was looking at Castiel when he said it. Otherwise he would have missed the flash of emotion that crossed the former angel's face. And what was that about?

Dean was looking at Sam and undoubtedly missed it. "Of course. I mean, come on. It's almost enough to make me believe in Destiny. We need a willing monster, and we've got a vampire in place who will certainly help us."

"Why is Benny in Purgatory?" Cas asked. "I thought he was here."

Dean was shaking his head. "That's right. You were off in Heaven when Sam went to Purgatory to save Bobby. I sent Benny to help guide him out when Crowley--" He glared at the ex-demon, who simply shrugged in response. "...killed the Reaper who was supposed to get him out."

"Oh," was Castiel's only response.

"So, this is good," Dean went on. "We pull together what we need and then we can go before Death comes back to kick our asses."

Before Sam could say anything, Kevin, who as usual had been ignoring everything except the tablet, looked up and said. "And I know what the first trial is."

Everyone turned to look at him. Sam was relieved to have something to focus on instead of worrying about his brother going back to Purgatory. "What?"

"You need a dragon claw."

"Shit!" Dean said. Sam agreed. The last time they'd dealt with a dragon nothing had gone right.

Castiel shifted from one foot to another. Both Sam and Dean turned to him. "What, Cas," Dean asked.

Cas looked away for a moment before looking at Dean, but not meeting his eyes. "One of my brothers, Rachiel, is an expert on dragons. He should be able to help."

Dean shook his head. "Well, that's dandy that he's an expert, but, assuming he's still alive, he's human. How the heck can we even find him?"

Castiel's eyes darted away and then back again.

"What?" Sam asked. "What do you not want to tell us?"

Cas shook his head. "It's nothing. I'll show you the Enochian characters for his name. The summons will work."

"How?" Exasperation filled Dean's voice. "He's human. Summonings don't work on humans."

Sam finally got it. Or thought he had part of it. "The other angels fell, but they didn't become human, did they?"

Dean shot him a look before leveling his gaze on Castiel. "Is he right?"

Cas nodded his head, the motion slow and reluctant. He shifted his weight, leaning toward the door.

"Cas! How come you're the only one who's human?"

Cas raised a hand to his throat, absently touching something. Sam looked closed and, for the first time, noticed the faint silver scar.

A sudden intake of breath had both brothers turn, ready for whatever. However, they both relaxed when they saw it was just Crowley. The ex-demon was looking at Castiel, a look of understanding in his eyes. "The trials aren't trials at all. They're spells."

Cas nodded again, his eyes lowering to the ground. Crowley continued. "And the final piece to the Heaven gate was...what? Grace of an angel?"

Cas looked up. "I should have told you. But--"

"But what?" Dean said, fury in his tone. "You didn't think we needed to know this?"

Castiel's shoulders slumped, and he started to turn away. "I couldn't-- I hoped I wouldn't need to tell you." He sighed. "Obviously I should have known better."

"Tell us what?" Sam said, deliberately keeping his tone even.

"That Metatron was the one who finished the spell." Cas raised his hand again to his throat. "He took my grace, told me to 'go have children' and then cast me out. I am the only one of my brethren who is human. The rest are fallen, but they will retain some of their abilities."

Sam nodded. Dean looked like he wanted to yell some more, but the younger Winchester waved him down. "Not now. We've got a solid lead. We can play the blame game later. When we have time. What powers will the other angels have?"

Cas squared his shoulders and looked at Dean. When he spoke, his tone was crisp and businesslike. "You said you saw some of the angels fall?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, like fireballs coming out of the sky."

"Were their wings burning?"

"Like anything."

Cas nodded. "I thought so. Then they will not be able to fly. They will likely retain their ability to--" His lips curled in a faint smile. "Smite, as you put it, Dean. They may be able to summon their blades. I'm less sure of that. All of them will have been drawn to their nearest vessel, and they won't be able to manifest their true form. They should be able to heal their vessels, although perhaps not as quickly."

Sam was nodding. "And you think summoning will work? Even without being able to fly?"

"I believe so." His voice was certain. "Responding to a summons doesn't involve flying. It's more like a mystical connection that draws the being to the source of the spell."

"And you think this Rachiel dude will be able to help us?" Dean asked.

Cas paused a moment before answering. "He will be able to help you. Whether he will or not is another question."

Dean shrugged. "Well, what are we waiting for? Do we have everything we need for an angel summoning?"

Sam started to answer, but before he could do more than open his mouth, Cas said, anxiety in his voice, "No. Wait until Dean and I have left for Purgatory."

"Why?" Dean asked, his voice sharp.

Cas shuffled his feet and again looked at the floor. "You have said that many of my brothers are 'dicks.' Well, if I understand the word correctly, that is an accurate description of my brother."

Dean frowned. "So, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being you, 7 being Uriel and 10 being Zachariah, where does this Rachiel fall?"

Sam was amused that Dean, who had been so angry with Cas a moment earlier, still rated him a "1" on the scale.

Cas swallowed before saying, his voice low, "Eleven?"

Dean whistled. "That good. Right." He turned to his brother. "Better you than me, Sammy."

Sam scowled. "Thanks."

"It's what being an older brother is for."

Kevin cleared his throat and said, "If you guys are done with insulting each other, I'm going back to translating. You guys can deal with dick angels. I've got enough to keep me busy."

***

Dean went off to pack, after sending Cas to gather the supplies they'd need for the warding ritual. He was glad to finally be doing something. The waiting for the last few days had been driving him crazy.

Sam stopped by his room just as he was zipping up his duffel. "Dean?"

"Yeah."

His brother paused before entering the room. "I don't know-- It's just--"

Dean nodded. "I know, Sammy. I'm not too excited to be going back to Purgatory." He looked the younger Winchester up and down, taking in his drawn face and slightly hunched over posture. "You still suffering after effects of aborting the ritual?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but I'm okay. Getting used to it. I think it's getting better."

Dean gave him a doubtful scowl, and Sam raised his hand to hastily added, "No, honest. I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. The first couple days I could barely get out of bed in the morning. Now, it's getting easier. Sometimes I don't even notice it."

"Okay." Dean stretched the word out.

"Anyway, that's not why I came."

Dean smiled and took a step forward, pulling his brother into a tight hug. Sam hugged back, and for a moment, they just stood there, together. Finally, Dean pulled back and said, "Keep an eye on Crowley. I still don't trust him."

Sam nodded. "I don't either. Not completely. Don't worry. I'll be careful."

"And call Garth if you need more help."

Sam frowned. "Yes, mother."

Dean laughed and then said, "With any luck, Cas and I will be able to set up the safe haven and leave Benny to keep an eye on things. I want to get back here to help if we can."

"That'd be good, but don't leave the souls at risk. Don't want to piss off Death."

A shudder passed through Dean at the thought. "No worries. Not going to risk that."

They stood there for a minute more, but there wasn't anything more. They'd said what need to be said. Everything else between them was understood and didn't need words.

Sam left, and Dean got ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to come way too early.

***

Dean was just starting to drift off when he heard movement at his door. One smooth motion brought him upright, gun from under his pillow in his hand. He relaxed when he saw the familiar outline of Castiel in his doorway. 

He put the gun back under his pillow and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," came the plaintive reply. 

Dean sighed. "Man, you haven't slept well since you became human. What makes tonight so much different?"

"I'm sorry," Cas said as he started to leave.

"No, Cas. Come back."

Cas paused, still poised to go, and Dean knew if he thought about his next move, he'd never do it. So, in typical Dean fashion, he didn't think about it. He just acted, throwing back the covers and saying, "Come here."

Cas took one step and then paused. 

Dean huffed out a breath. "You know me, man. If you don't get over here right now, I'm liable to change my mind.”

Cas "got," three quick steps clearing the distance between door and bed. He lay down, perched on the very edge of the bed. Dean suppressed a chuckle at that and pulled the sheet and blankets back up, covering them both.

"Talk to me," he said and a shudder passed through him at the words. The last time he'd said them, Cas had admitted to wanting to kill himself.

Castiel might have had the same thought, as he turned, blue eyes gleaming in the dim light from the hallway. "It's not like last time, Dean."

Dean nodded. "Good. What's got you sleepless tonight?"

He been expecting something around guilt for closing Heaven or similar topics.

What he got was, "What is Benny to you?"

Uh oh. That was potentially a dangerous topic, and Dean answered cautiously. "He's a friend. He had my back in Purgatory and got Sam back during the trials. I'll be in his debt for a long time over that last one."

From the flash in Castiel's eyes, he could see the answer didn't satisfy. "Do you love him?"

Dean pushed himself up on an elbow. That question had been asked in a tone remarkably resembling the one the angel had used when threatening to send him back to Hell. Anger flashed through him, and when he answered, his voice was just as harsh. "That's not what you really want to know, is it? What you really want to know is did we have sex?"

Cas sat up. "Well, did you?" More "Angel of the Lord" growl. Becoming human obviously hadn't diminished that.

"All right. Yes, we did."

Was this always going to be their relationship? Two parts caring. Four parts anger.

Cas was instantly in motion, rolling off the bed in one smooth action. Fortunately, Dean had anticipated the move and reached out to stop him. 

"Damn it, Cas. That's your problem. As soon as things get hard, you run. Well, you're not an angel anymore. You can't just disappear."

Cas froze, and Dean mentally played back his words. "Shit, man. I didn't mean it like that."

Cas turned to face him, eyes glittering with a mix of emotions. "Yes, you did, Dean."

"All right. Maybe I did a little bit, but stay anyway."

Cas stayed still under Dean's hand, and the hunter took a deep breath and tried again. "What I meant was that human relationships are hard sometimes. You can't fix anything by running."

A slight relaxation of the muscles under his hand encourage him to continue. "Look, you remember Purgatory. The heat. The stink. The pain and the blood. Yeah, Benny offered one day, and I accepted. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, and I wanted just a few minutes where I could enjoy something without worrying about whether I'd get my head ripped off in the next ten minutes. Surely you can't begrudge me that?"

Cas lowered his head and looked at his hands. "No, I can't." His voice was quiet yet still full of hurt.

Dean sighed. "I also wanted you to know that we stopped after we found you. And I'm not planning to start anything up. We didn't when we were both topside either. It's no accident that he calls me 'brother.' Really, that's pretty much what we are to each other."

Cas cocked his head and frowned. "Have you and Sam had sex then?"

Dean recoiled. "Shit, man! Where do you get off asking that? No way. I mean, seriously. We're _brothers_."

His frown deepened, and he shifted on the bed. "Dean. I've been watching humanity for millennia. I've seen things reviled by one culture that were respected by another. You'll forgive me if I don't always know what's currently in fashion or not."

Dean relaxed. He'd never thought about it that way before, but it made a weird kind of sense. And explained a lot about Cas and his views of human culture. "Okay, man. I get that. Just not the kind of question you should be asking here. We're not Egyptians or whatever."

Cas nodded. "I understand." He made as if to get up, and Dean surprised himself by reaching out again. "What? You answered my questions. We both need to try to get some rest before tomorrow."

Dean swallowed hard before saying, "Stay."

Castiel's blue eyes widened. "Why?"

Dean scratched his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe because this is the last night we'll have some peace for a while. Maybe I don't want to spend it alone?"

"Maybe?"

Dean huffed out a breath. "Okay, no, I don't want to spend it alone." He tugged the former angel closer. Apparently Cas came to a decision because he lay down beside Dean, who was surprised at how well their bodies slotted together. It was almost like they were made for each other or something.

Yeah, right. But for right now he was content to have Cas pressed up against his side, head tucked under his chin, one arm heavy and warm across Dean's bare chest. He settled himself more comfortably, and Cas shifted with him.

Dean lay thinking for a while, remembering what Sam had said. Was he fooling himself? He knew what he felt. He didn't need to think about it. Which didn't make it any easier to contemplate actually saying it.

Finally, he opened his mouth and said, "I think I do love you, Cas."

A soft snore was the only response.

 _Typical_ , Dean thought, and he let himself drift off to sleep, a relaxed smile spread across his face.

***

When Sam staggered into the kitchen the next morning, he saw his brother already at the stove, fixing bacon, hash browns and his excellent egg sandwiches. Sam's mouth started watering immediately, and he hovered over Dean to steal a slice of bacon.

Dean made to slap him with the spatula. "Wait your turn. It'll be ready in a minute."

Sam turned to the counter, where coffee was already brewing. As he poured his all-important first cup, he said, "You're in a good mood for someone who's about to head to Purgatory."

Dean shrugged and flipped a sandwich onto a plate. Adding hash browns and several slices of bacon, he handed it all to his brother. "The waiting's over. You know how much I hate that part."

Sam nodded and took his coffee and breakfast to the table. "Yeah, I get that." He didn't mention that while the waiting might be over for Dean, it was just starting for him.

Cas stumbled into the kitchen, still dressed just in an old t-shirt of Dean's and blue boxers. The former angel also headed straight for the coffee. Dean stepped away from his cooking to lean over and say something to him.

Curious, Sam made a point of eating his breakfast, while actually trying to listen in.

"You weren't there when I woke up," Dean was saying.

"Nightmare. Didn't want to keep you awake, " Cas responded.

Dean ruffled Cas' black hair and said, "It would have been okay."

Cas shrugged and stepped over to the stove to frown down at the food being prepared.

Sam hid his surprise in a mouthful of sandwich. Had he heard correctly? Cas had slept with Dean last night? He couldn't help but wonder if something other than sleeping had happened? His tired brain offered up a few images that made him wince and try to change the direction of his thoughts.

Dean was telling Cas he had to eat his eggs. "They're good for you. And you know this'll be the last meal for a while."

"I'm glad," Cas said as he stole another couple of pieces of bacon to his plate. Dean let him. Meat was one of the few things he actually liked to eat.

Cas was just walking to the table, juggling his coffee, plate and the slice of bacon he was stuffing in his mouth. Sam was taking internal bets on whether he'd make it without spilling when the sound of tires crunching over gravel came from outside.

Dean whirled, grabbing his gun from his waistband at the same time Sam got out of his chair and hustled to where they kept a shotgun under the counter. He tossed it to Cas, who nodded and took up a position near the door. Cas wasn't yet any good with a pistol or rifle, but he was fine with a shotgun. Sam pulled his own pistol and was in position just in time to see Death enter the bunker.

To say he didn't look pleased would be an understatement.

He was tapping his cane on the ground with more force than was needed, and his brows were drawn together in a scowl. "Put those away."

Guns vanished immediately.

"I said you had three days. Why are you still here?"

Dean shrugged and walked back to the stove. "We needed time to do research. Cas found a warding that will work in Purgatory. As soon as we finished breakfast, we were going to head out."

His eyes widened slightly at the mention of warding, but otherwise his expression didn't change. "Breakfast? You are taking time for that? Do you have any idea of the chaos out there?"

"Actually, yes," Sam said. "But there wasn't much point in going until they were ready. There's not much lore on Purgatory."

"I researched as fast as I could," Cas said, his tone defiant. He sat down and began eating with more gusto than Sam was used to seeing.

Dean stepped forward and handed a plate to Death. "Here. Eat this. As soon as we finish up, we'll go."

Death glanced down at his plate. "What is this?"

Sam answered. "It's Dean's awesome egg sandwich. And the best bacon I've ever tasted."

Death frowned at the food as if it offended him, but he sat and took a bite of sandwich. Sam had to stifle a chuckle at the look that went across his face, and he eagerly took a few more bites.

Dean smiled, the expression satisfied, and he turned back to finish his own breakfast.

Death leaned over to Sam, who had sat down next to him to work on his own food. "I didn't know your brother could cook."

Sam shrugged. "Neither did I until we moved in here. Lived with him all my life and had no idea."

"Hidden depths, Sammy." Dean's voice was full of amusement, and Cas snorted into his hash browns.

As soon as Dean finished eating, he tossed his plate in the sink. The deal with them was that Dean cooked and Sam did the cleaning up. They both considered it a fair deal, although Sam often felt he was getting the better end.

"Cas, you got your stuff?" Dean asked.

The former angel swallowed his last bite of sandwich and replied, "It will take me just a minute."

Dean nodded and glanced him over. "Good. Don't forget to put on some clothes. Boxers might send the wrong impression where we're going."

Cas frowned but got up to leave.

"And grab my bag while you're there," Dean called after him.

Dean turned to Death and said, "As soon as he comes back, we'll call your Reaper and go."

Death was just finishing his own breakfast and swallowed his last piece of bacon before saying, "No need. Since I'm here, I'll take you myself."

Dean's eyebrows went up. "Oh, okay."

"You said you've found a ward?" Death asked.

Dean nodded. "Well, actually Cas found it, but he thinks it'll work. We know a defensible place. As soon as we find Benny, we'll be good to go."

"And why do you need the vampire?"

"Because we need the blood of a willing monster," Cas answered as he came back, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and one of Dean's old jackets. Two backpacks hung over his shoulders.

Dean turned, and Sam saw his face go white for a moment. He wondered what that was about but there was no time to ask.

Death nodded as Castiel's answer. "I see. Do hurry. I can't keep things stable much longer."

Dean stepped over to Cas and grabbed his pack. "Don't worry. I don't intend to spend any more time there than we need. Ready, Cas?"

Cas nodded.

Sam walked over and engulfed his brother in a hug. Dean hugged him back just as hard. "Come back, you hear," Sam whispered in Dean's ear.

"No worries, Sammy," Dean said back, voice just as soft.

Reluctantly, Sam let go of his brother and turned to Cas, giving him the same treatment. Cas stiffened for a moment and then hugged back. "Bring him back to me," Sam said, also in a whisper.

"I will," Cas whispered back.

Then Sam turned to Death. "They're all yours."

Dean was glancing around. "Where's Kevin? I didn't expect or want Crowley to see us off, but I thought for sure Kevin would be here."

Sam shook his head. "I got up around 3:00, and he was still awake. I slipped a tranq in his Red Bull and sent him off to bed. I doubt he'll be awake for hours."

Dean chuckled. "Red Bull isn't supposed to be mixed with sleeping pills, Sam."

Sam shrugged. "I do what I have to do. Can't let him kill himself before he translates the tablets."

Death tapped his cane on the ground. "If you all are quite through, we need to move."

Dean shot Sam one last look, affection in his eyes and stepped over to Death. Cas followed.

Sam swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and refused to let the tears spill out of his eyes.

Death touched each of them on the shoulder, and they were gone.

Sam felt completely alone.

***

Dean knew Purgatory the moment they landed. The way the heat stole under your skin until you felt it would drive you crazy. The way the smell almost, but not quite, made you gag.

Most of all, the way it felt: pure, simple and almost good.

Without discussion, Dean and Cas positioned themselves back to back. It was like the last week hadn't happened and Cas, even newly human, was back to who he was: an Angel of The Lord, ready to smite and protect.

Death snorted. "Very nice, but you're in no danger for the moment. My aim is better than that."

Dean relaxed his stance, and Cas moved to stand beside him. "Yeah, thanks for that. Any idea how close we are to the place I mentioned?"

Death gestured to the east. "Approximately half a day's journey that way. Of course, I don't know where your vampire is."

Dean shook his head. "Damn. Way in the wrong direction. The last time I was here, Benny had a territory about two day's journey from here. I assumed he'd go try to take it back."

"Perhaps not," Cas said. He paused and then continued. "He would want to stay near the portal in case you came back."

Dean shot him a look. "You sound pretty sure about that."

Cas shrugged. "It's what I would do."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Death swung his cane. "I wouldn't know, but I do know that you have to hurry. If you don't, I may have to start releasing the borderline cases to Hell. That would buy us a bit of time, but not much."

Dean nodded. "We're on it. Soon as we find Benny, we'll hightail it to the valley and get set up." He frowned. "How do we get word to you?"

Death waved away the question. "I'll know."

Dean would have loved to have asked how, but he knew Death wouldn't answer anyway, and he didn't think this was the best time to piss off the powerful spirit. "All right. Well, time's a wastin'" He eyed the sky. "We've only got a few hours before what passes for night here. I want to cover some distance before that."

Death nodded. He started to turn but stopped. "Good luck."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Thanks."

Death vanished.

"Really not sure how to take being wished luck by Death."

Cas was already moving. "Come on, Dean."

Dean followed him.

***

They soon fell into a pattern. Dean led while Cas stayed a few paces behind, guarding their rear while still being close enough to support Dean if an attack came from the front.

And they were attacked. Many times. Dean had a big knife, not Ruby's, but one on similar lines. Cas had one of the angel blades the Winchesters had acquired over the years. It had no resonance with Castiel, but he said he still preferred them, that they felt right in his hands.

Dean had to admire how he used it. Unlike the last time they'd been here, Cas was fighting like he meant it. He was grace and power, even in his human shell. Dean had been fighting all his life. Cas had been fighting longer than humanity has existed, and it showed.

After the third skirmish, they'd finally managed to capture a monster alive. It was a werewolf and not in the mood to help. Dean changed his mind. He hated that he'd had to learn torture, but he couldn't deny the skill came in useful.

Unfortunately, torture wasn't much good when the subject didn't know anything.

"Damn! At this rate, we'll be weeks finding Benny."

Something dropped on them from a nearby tree. Cas whirled. His blade flashed, and a head rolled to Dean's feet.

Dean jumped back. He hadn't even been aware of the attack until after Cas has dealt with it. He shot the former angel a fierce grin. "Good to have you back, man."

Cas answered with a nod. "It is good to be back."

"But next time? Keep him alive for questioning." He looked at the body. "That was a vampire. He might have known something."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "Given the choice, I'd rather be alive."

They continued on. The next monster attacked Dean first, and he was able to keep it alive. It was a shtriga, and Dean really hated the witchy monsters, so he was completely okay with interrogating it. Turned out it was worth it. She knew where to find Benny.

***

Once his brother and Cas were gone, Sam sat down at the table. He knew he should do the dishes or something, but he couldn't find the energy to do anything.

A few minutes later, Crowley came in, yawning. "Anything left to eat?"

Sam waved to the fridge. "I think Dean left you something."

Crowley's eyes widened. "By any chance would 'something' be one of those egg sandwiches?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

The ex-demon hastily opened the fridge, took out a plate and popped it into the microwave. He poured some coffee while he waited. "They gone? It's quiet."

"Yeah, Death showed up, busted our balls for not moving fast enough and then took them to Purgatory."

"Himself? I hope your brother was properly impressed by the honor." Amusement tinged Crowley's tone.

"Not particularly."

"Figures." The microwave _dinged_ and he got out his food.

Sam stood up, stretched and said, "I'm going to get the stuff and summon Rachiel. Sitting around here is just going to drive me crazy."

He heard the soft _plop_ of a sandwich hitting a plate, and he turned to see Crowley, mouth open wide.

"What?"

"You weren't seriously thinking about summoning him here, were you?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. Hadn't given it much thought, actually. Why?"

Crowley swallowed, took a sip of coffee and said, "Obviously you don't know as much about angels as you thought."

"What?"

Crowley sighed. "Angels have an instinctive sense of exactly where they are. Right now, they don't know where you are. Summon one here, and--"

Sam got it. "If Rachiel knows where we are, he'll tell his friends."

Crowley was nodding. "Exactly. And then you'll have the entire Wrath of the Heavenly Host down upon your head. I'm not eager to see that, and I don't think you want them to know where to find Cas."

"No, we don't." He thought for a moment. "All right. We'll use the church where I did the ritual on you."

Crowley winced. "Bring back the memories, why don't you?"

"It's plenty far enough from here."

"Right." He picked up his sandwich and resumed eating. After a moment, he said, "And I suppose you'll want to leave as soon as possible?"

"Yeah, finish eating, grab a shower if you must, and we'll head out. That'll give me enough time to get together all the stuff Cas said we'd need."

"And you need me for this expedition, why?"

Sam turned to fix him with a steely glare. "Because I only trust you so far. I'm not leaving you here alone with Kevin. Besides, you're the one who needs to get the claw."

Crowley sighed. "Give me 20 minutes or so."

***

Cas was surprised at how satisfying it was to be back in Purgatory. Granted, he wasn't spending every minute looking over his shoulder for Leviathans, but still, it was odd. Everything here was simpler, and being human wasn't as stressful.

He'd learned the hard way that mortality sucked. Eating was required, but his system still rebelled at many foods. What happened after eating was humiliating. His emotions ran stronger too. He'd not realized how much emotional buffering he'd received from his grace. When he'd nearly fallen three years earlier, it had been bad, but he'd retained enough grace to not experience emotions to their fullest. Now everything was so...intense. Sometimes he could almost feel the rush of hormones triggering yet another near meltdown.

He guessed he'd get used to it eventually. Sam and Dean rarely seemed flattened by what they felt. Cas hoped it would happen to him soon.

If that was all, though, he thought he could handle it. But there was still this need for sleep. Which led to nightmares. He'd witnessed Dean and occasionally even Sam in the middle of one, and he thought he'd understood. Once or twice, he'd even peeked into Dean's, although he'd remained cloaked and at a safe distance. Certainly, they seemed unpleasant, but the first time he had one of his own, he realized how little he'd understood the power his subconscious had over him. He avoided sleep as long as he could, which led to him being "cranky", according to Dean. Cas wasn't completely sure what that meant, but he was learning that being tired only made the emotional upheaval worse.

He was in a nasty circle, and he didn't know how to get off.

When in Purgatory, however, they didn't need to eat or sleep, which relieved Castiel of two of his demons. Unfortunately, it didn't eliminate emotion.

Fear was easy. He'd dealt with that as an angel, and he was confident of his and Dean's ability to deal with anything that attacked them. As long as they didn't grow distracted or careless, they'd be fine.

Staying alert demanded enough of his attention that he was able to hold guilt and shame at bay. Not reliving his devastation of Heaven every night helped too.

Which left...well, he wasn't even sure what to call it. Want didn't seem strong enough. He thought it might be love, but since he was still sorting through emotions, he wasn't certain that was it, although his recent conversation with Dean seemed to indicate it might be.

All he knew was that he wanted things with an intensity that left an ache deep inside him. He wanted to kiss Dean. He wanted to hug him, hold him and be allowed to touch him. Of course, he wanted sex, and thanks to his brief marriage to Daphne, he knew what that was.

But it was more than that. He wanted to hunt with Dean, spend time with him and earn the right to ride shotgun again. He wanted to protect him, drink beer with him and learn to fix the Impala, but only if Dean taught him.

Was that love? Perhaps.

He made another quick survey of his surroundings. No immediate danger. Dean seemed lost in thoughts of his own, but his eyes were also moving.

Cas allowed himself to sink briefly into memory. Their last night before coming here. Dean calling him back and inviting him to bed. The way they fit together, Dean's arm under his shoulders, brushing where his wings had been. Warmth, safety, peace. He'd been so tired he'd not been able to stay awake long, just a few short minutes of bliss. However, he'd slept without dreaming and found rest for the first time since he'd been human.

"Cas?"

Dean's voice roused him from memory. "Yes, Dean?"

"We haven't been attacked in a while. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad."

Cas thought. "Perhaps we are getting close to Benny's territory. It would be a sound strategy for him to clear a buffer zone around it."

Dean nodded, still moving, head darting back and forth, alert for attack. "Perhaps. It would be like him."

Dean's voice was full of affection, and Cas felt yet another emotion. Jealousy. Where want ached within him, jealousy was sharp and stabbing.

He had believed Dean when the hunter had said Benny was like a brother, but Cas knew humans well enough to know they could change their minds. And Cas had heard Dean's side. But what about the vampire? Did he want Dean back? Why wouldn't he? How hard would he try, and what could Cas do about it? He was broken, bereft of his power and wracked by shame and guilt. How could Dean love that?

A voice sounded above them. "Well, looks like the rumors were true. What are two humans doing running around a place like this?"

Cas whirled, his blade ready, as a tall man in a dark blue coat jumped down from the rocks above them. Dean's weapon remained down, however, and a welcoming smile spread across his face.

"Benny! We've been looking for you."

Cas again felt the hot burn of jealousy and lowered his weapon.

Dean and Benny took a couple of quick steps toward each other and hugged. Cas watched all the muscles in Dean's back relax as they held each other. He turned away to give them some privacy.

A moment later, the hunter and vampire broke apart. Cas heard movement behind him and turned to see Benny walking up to him. A moment later, he was engulfed as enthusiastically as Dean had been. He froze for a moment before relaxing and raising his arms to hug back. It felt odd but surprisingly pleasant, and he felt his emotions ease.

"Good to see you again, Castiel," Benny said, strong arms still around him. Then the vampire pulled back and looked him over closely. "What's with the being human part, though?"

Cas was saved from answering by Dean who stepped over, still smiling, and said, "That's why we were looking for you. Got a safe place where we can talk?"

Benny shrugged. "As safe as anyplace can be here." He motioned in the direction they had been heading. "This way. Not too far."

The three of them walked in companionable silence. Cas was surprised at how comfortable it was to be with Benny this time. Last time he'd felt guilty at keeping secret from Dean his determination to stay. This time there was nothing to keep from anyone. Except, of course, his jealousy, but that seemed ridiculous in the warmth of their welcome. Perhaps this time, he could just enjoy the challenge. And the company.

***

Sam drove, of course. For a moment, he smiled as he imagined the fit Dean would pitch if Sam had let Crowley drive. Then the smile slipped as Dean's loss sank in again. It was worse having someone else in the car. For a moment, he could almost let himself believe it was his brother in the passenger seat, but then reality would come rushing in, and he'd miss him all the more.

"Your brother will be fine, you know. Cas won't let anything happen to him."

Sam glanced over at the ex-demon sitting quietly on the other side of the car. "Are you reading my mind or something?"

Crowley snorted and shook his head. "No, never developed that skill."

"Then how--"

"Body language, my boy. Most Crossroads Demons can read minds. And it makes them sloppy."

Sam frowned, not sure what Crowley was getting at. "But surely reading minds makes it easier to deal?"

Crowley nodded, but the gesture was restrained. "Yes and no. Certainly it helps, but think about it. How often do you lie to yourself?"

Sam winced. Not a question he wanted to think about. "Pretty often, actually."

"Exactly. But your body almost never lies. It's why you say things like actions speak louder than words. You may think one thing while your body shows something else, and the body language is almost always closer to the truth. That's my gift. I read the body, and I can always tell when someone's ready to deal. Or needs a bit more persuasion. Or is worrying about his brother."

"Great. The Sherlock Holmes of demon kind."

That surprised a laugh out of Crowley. "I've been called many things in my life, but that's a new one."

A few miles passed in comfortable silence before Sam said, "Can I ask you something?"

Crowley turned to look at him. "You can ask. Doesn't mean I have to answer."

"Fair enough." Sam paused and finally just came out with it. "Are you really into guys, or is all that an act?"

Crowley leaned back in his seat and gave Sam a sharp look. "Now that's a curious question, Sam Winchester. Why do you ask?"

Sam gave him a cheeky grin. "What, my body language doesn't tell you?"

"Touché."

Sam shrugged. "No real reason. It's just something I've been curious about. Not like I could have asked you before now."

Crowley didn't answer right away. Finally, he said, "You do remember that I was married, right? And had a son?"

"Sure. Like that means anything."

Crowley's shoulders relaxed, and he sighed. "In my time, you married who your parents wanted, when they wanted. They arranged a marriage with a girl whose father was the owner of the local weaver. It was a good arrangement. My family got cloth at a good price for us to make clothes. We shared some of the profits back to my wife's family, and everyone did well."

Crowley drummed his fingers on his seat rest, the shackles glinting in the sunlight from the window. "My wife was a nice girl, a good cook and skilled with a loom. The only problem, of course, was that she was a girl, with the wrong parts."

"I could see where that might be a problem," Sam said, fascinated and wanting him to continue.

"Most of the reasons my son hated me were valid. However, the best reason he had for hating me he didn't even know about. He wasn't my son."

Realization hit Sam. "You mean your wife had an affair? And you were okay with it?"

Crowley shrugged. "Okay is a relative term. Not only were we supposed to marry whom our parents wanted. We were also expected to produce an heir as soon as possible. I did try." His voice dropped, and Sam carefully didn't look at him. He knew shame when he heard it.

"After several months, my wife took matters in her own hands. There was another young man in town who looked enough like me that everyone had joked for years he was my brother. She had a discreet affair with him, and nine months later, everyone was happy. Honor was satisfied." He paused before adding, "And I suspect she continued the affair until my death. As for afterwards?" He shrugged. "Honestly, I never bothered to check. I hardly cared at that point."

Sam thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask his next question. Crowley anticipated it and said, "And, yes, I had my own share of discreet affairs. I'm sure my wife knew of them, but she didn't ask any more questions than I did. I won't say we had a happy marriage, but few married for love then. We rarely fought and coexisted pleasantly enough."

He turned to face Sam. "So, there you have it? Satisfied? And to head off your next question, no being a demon hasn't changed anything. My superiors rather enjoyed the effect my proclivities had on marks. It was common to send in a beautiful female in to arrange the deal and then send me in to seal it. Provided plenty of amusement for all involved. Little enough of that in Hell, so you take it where you can get it."

"Thank you," Sam said, making his voice sound like he meant it, which he did. He'd truly been curious, but he also knew that the more he knew about the former King of Hell, the better. He was suspecting Crowley would turn on them at some point. He wanted any ammunition he could get.

They drove in silence for a hundred miles or so until Sam said, "One more question."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever quit?"

Sam smiled. "Dean used to ask that when I was a kid." A sharp stab of pain went through him, but he ignored it and continued. "He used to tell me he'd mash my face in if I asked one more question."

"But he never did, did he?" Crowley's voice was certain.

Sam shook his head. "Of course not. I'd ask one more, and he'd either answer it, if he knew, or he'd tell me he'd find out and tell me later." His tone grew soft with memory. "And he always did, too. It might take him a couple of days, but he always came back with an answer."

Crowley sighed. "Fine, then. Ask your damn question." There was no real heat in the words, though.

"It's about Hell. Cas said once that you'd redecorated. Something about an endless line?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Well, when I went there last year to get Bobby out--" Suddenly it occurred to him this might not be the best question to ask, but once his curiosity took hold, he had a hard time letting it go, and he decided to go with it. "Well, it didn't look like that. There were cells and screaming and all the things you'd expect in Hell. I didn't see a line."

Crowley shook his head. "And I always thought you were the brother with sense." Again, there was no heat in his voice, and Sam relaxed. He might not be as good as the demon at reading body language, but he sensed he'd get an answer to his question.

"The line's still there, but it's mostly for demons. The cells are for the souls that haven't turned yet. Torture and the fires and pain of Hell are most effective for corrupting them. You were just in that section. If you'd continued on, you'd have found the line." He shrugged. "For some things, the traditional approach is still best. Besides, as effective as the line is, sometimes I still prefer to listen to the screams."

You did ask, Sam thought to himself. It was a good reminder who was really sitting in the car next to him.

"Regret asking, kid?"

Sam shook his head, knowing that even if Crowley could read him, he didn't have to make it easier for him. "No. I was curious. Know thine enemy and all that."

A quiet chuckle was the only response to that.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

***

Dean filled Benny in on the situation. The vampire was a good listener, asking a few questions for clarification but otherwise letting Dean tell the story. When he was finished, Benny chewed on it for a few minutes before saying, "So Death wants you to set up a safe zone, and Castiel here has some wards he thinks will make it happen. Where do I fit in all this?"

Cas answered. "The ward requires shedding the blood of a monster." He sounded apologetic as he said the last word.

Benny nodded. "Which means me, I'm guessing."

"You willing?" Dean asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. From the glitter in Benny's eyes, he suspected he hadn't done a very good job.

"Of course, brother. I'm surprised you thought you had to ask. Always happy to bleed for a Winchester."

"That's my line," Cas said with a growl.

Benny shot him a look full of confusion. Dean just laughed, reached over and patted the former angel's shoulder. "No worries, Cas. I'll always ask you first to bleed. I promise."

"Good," was the gravelly response.

The look of confusion on Benny's face just deepened, and Dean took pity on him. "In joke, brother. Don't worry about it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas wince at the word "brother," and he mentally chastised himself for the slip. He'd have to be careful about that, but it came so naturally.

Benny just nodded. "So, what's the specific plan? Where do we set the wards and all that?"

Dean nodded to Castiel. "I think this was your plan. Fill us in."

The former angel nodded, his face setting into familiar _I'm an Angel of The Lord_ lines. He snapped a twig off a nearby tree and hunkered down, quickly sketching something on the ground. A moment later, Dean thought he recognized it as a rough but thorough map of the area they'd selected to ward. Cas added some features, hills, a large rock and a few trees. He sat back, looked it over, added a few more details and said, "All right. The area is too big to ward completely. So, what we'll need is a layered defense." He pointed to several areas. "We'll put the wards here, here, here and here." With each "here," he tapped a location on the map.

Dean blinked. Just like that, Cas had identified the points of greatest strategic weakness.

"How'd you do that?"

Cas glanced at him. "Do what?"

Dean pointed to the map. "That. You drew an amazingly accurate map and identified the areas needing the most protection. In seconds. Without hesitation."

Cas gave him grave, slightly puzzled look. "Dean, I was an angel. I've been planning strategy for millennia."

Dean shifted his legs. Right. Castiel was a soldier and good at it. Damn if that wasn't strangely hot.

Benny was looking at him too, a small smile on his lips. Great. Vampire sense of smell or something. That was just gross.

"Okay, Cas," he said, trying to distract everyone from his confusion and arousal. "I get the strategy bit. But you've only been here once, and you drew that map like it was your backyard."

Cas huffed out a breath. "I was an angel, Dean."

Dean restrained the eye roll and said, "Yeah, I know that. What's that got to do with anything?"

Castiel's eyes widened. "Of course, you wouldn't have known."

"Know what?" Now Dean was getting annoyed. And Benny's amusement wasn't helping.

"Angels have an instinctive sense of their surroundings. If we've been somewhere once, we can always find our way back, and we remember it completely." He gestured at the map. "So, I can do that."

Dean nodded. "Okay, that makes sense. But you're not an angel anymore?"

He regretted the flash of pain in his friend's eyes. "True. But I seem to have most of my memories."

Benny reached over and said, his voice gentle, "Most of them is right." He took his own stick and made a few changes. "You were close, but not quite accurate over here. It's part of my territory. I know it well."

Castiel's dropped his eyes. "Oh."

Dean winced at the pain in that one word, and he reached over to draw the former angel in for a quick hug. "It's okay. You did well. It's still a good plan."

A sudden thought occurred to him. "Damn!"

"What, Dean?"

"Sam doesn't know that about angels either. What if he summons Rachiel to the bunker? Last thing we need is the angels knowing about our hideout."

Cas was shaking his head. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Dean."

"Why not?"

"Crowley does know about our spatial sense. He won't let Sam summon an angel there."

Dean hoped Cas was right, but there was nothing to do about it now, so he turned his attention back to the map.

Benny had been studying it while Dean had freaked out about Rachiel. The vampire said, "I see why you've placed the wards where you have. But that still leaves gaps. There's only three of us. We can't cover it all."

Cas made some more notations on the map. "True, but I don't think we'll have to." He paused, eyes darting to one side before continuing. "I think it's safe to assume that some of the souls will have training--"

Dean got it. "You mean some of them will be former soldiers, police and the like. You intend to use them to defend the gaps."

Cas nodded, his eyes shining with pride. "Exactly."

Benny was nodding. "And you'll put the kids and others who can't fight in the center."

"Yes. And fill in the middle with able-bodied souls who don't have training but can still fight. If we teach them to make weapons, they can re-arm the ones on the front line."

Dean glanced over the map, looking for holes or weaknesses in the plan. Finally, he nodded, the motion slow and pleased. "That's good, Cas. That's better than good. It's brilliant. It won't be easy, but I think it can work."

Benny was pointing at the eastern part of the map. "This area's in my territory. It's no problem. Of course, you can use it." He then pointed to the north-western area. "This could be a problem, though."

"Who claims it?" Dean asked.

"Wendigo. An old and very powerful one. Smart too, for his kind. It won't be easy to kill him."

Dean grinned. "Just up my alley." He thought for a moment. "Cas, you start the wards in Benny's territory. You're the best one to draw them. Benny and I will go deal with this wendigo. Then you can ward his area, and Benny can activate them."

He looked at his two companions. Benny was nodding. Cas looked like he wanted to protest, but after a moment, he nodded and said, "If that's what you think is best, Dean."

***

Sam and Crowley had almost finished their preparations. Sam had drawn the symbols while Crowley assembled the spell ingredients. Sam stood back and glanced over everything. "Looks good to me. You see any problems?"

"Other than the fact we're summoning an angel?"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, other than that. That part's not negotiable."

Crowley frowned but shook his head. "No. It looks right to me. Not, of course, that I'm admitting to summoning many angels."

Sam cocked his head. "I'd hope not. I imagine they wouldn't take it well."

"Not particularly, no."

He sensed a story in that but instead handed the ritual to Crowley. "All right. All yours."

The ex-demon looked at the paper. "What's this?"

"The ritual. Your Enochian is better than mine."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "It's not enough that we're summoning an angel. You're going to make me actually do the ritual."

"You're the one doing the trials. Sounds right to me."

Sighing, Crowley took the paper and stepped forward to the makeshift altar they'd cobbled together. Sam stood behind him, hefting the angel blade they'd brought as a precaution.

"Better keep that out of sight. Don't want to start off on the wrong foot." Crowley paused. "Well, any more of a wrong foot, at least."

Sam grinned and hid the blade behind his back. It was nice to have Crowley at his mercy for once.

Crowley began reading the ritual. Sam was surprised to hear that he didn't have the English accent when reading Enochian.

"Hoc ech abso lut. Rachiel, Rachiel, Rachiel." Then he finished by tossing the final herbs in the cauldron. They went up with a satisfying burst of flame.

And nothing happened.

"Are you sure you read it right?" Sam asked.

"You're the one who said my Enochian was better. If you don't like the way I read it, you could have done it yourself." Crowley's voice was snappish.

"Maybe we can't summon them if they can't teleport?"

"Not likely. Not all demons can, but you can summon them."

"Then what could it be?" Sam glanced around, as if he expected the angel to have appeared behind them.

Just then the old church began shaking. The candles they'd placed around the room flickered. Lighting flashed in the cloudless sky.

Crowley shook his head. "Drama queens, all of them. It's all about the entrance to their kind."

As he finished speaking, someone appeared in the circle they'd carefully drawn. It was male, and dressed in a familiar blue uniform.

Sam and Crowley looked at each other, each trying not to laugh. Finally, Crowley said it. "I certainly hope he doesn't go postal on us."

Sam couldn't help it, and he burst into a short laugh. Angels wearing the uniform of a mailman weren't something he saw every day.

"We were drawn to our first available vessel," the angel said, his tone cross. "When you're done laughing, perhaps you will explain why I've been summoned by the Winchester abomination and the King of Hell."

"Former King, mate," Crowley said with a snap. "No thanks to the meddling by your kind."

Sam shot him a look. Just because Rachiel was already living up to Castiel's assessment didn't mean they could afford to piss him off. The angel was already examining the lines of the circle, and Sam was pretty sure he was looking for a way out. To be safe, he pulled out his lighter and ignited the holy oil they'd poured.

The angel's eyes followed the circle as the flames danced. "All right. You've made your point. Now tell me why you've called me here. And where is Castiel?"

Sam intended to ignore the latter question and then decided he could use it to their advantage. He doubted the angel would follow Cas to Purgatory, even if he were able to. "Working to clean up the mess Metatron made. You angels aren't the only ones kicked out of Heaven. Closing the gates also left nowhere for souls to go."

Crowley gave him an _are you nuts, mate_ look at the same time Rachiel said, "Metatron? What did he have to do with this? Castiel is the one responsible for this mess. When we find him, we'll make him pay."

Interesting. The angels didn't know, then. Sam shook his head. "Cas didn't close the gates. Metatron stole his grace and used it to finish the ritual."

One eyebrow rose into Rachiel's blond hair. "Castiel is...fallen?"

"Not by his own choice. What part of 'Metatron stole his grace' did you miss?"

The angel looked thoughtful. "That is unexpected. Metatron is not known for intervening directly. Where did you say Castiel was?"

This time Crowley answered. "He didn't say, but if you must know, he's in Purgatory, setting up a safe zone for souls. Apparently, Death doesn't approve of sending them my way."

"What part of 'former King of Hell' did you miss?" Rachiel asked, the sarcasm positively dripping from his tone.

Crowley's shrug was insolent. "Force of habit. Sorry. Doesn't change the fact that your Scribe of God made a right mess of things. Leaving us to clean up after him."

Now it was Sam's turn. "Look, we're trying to set things right. We've got the prophet working on the tablet. We know the first trial. That's why we summoned you. You've got knowledge we need."

Rachiel cocked his head, the gesture eerily reminiscent of Castiel. Sam swallowed back the pain of missing his brother. And, oddly enough, the pain of missing Dean's angel. "What is the trial?"

"We need a dragon claw," Crowley answered.

Rachiel furrowed his brow, the lines cutting deeply into his forehead. "What does a dragon claw have to do with the gates of Heaven?"

"Hell if I know, mate. I don't write the words. Cas said you were the foremost scholar of dragon lore. So, we need some information."

"Like what?"

Crowley glanced over at Sam, who answered. "How about the location of the nearest dragon? And how to get a claw from one."

Rachiel closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate for a moment. "We are in South Dakota?"

Crowley gave Sam an _I told you so_ look. Sam nodded. Okay, so angels did know exactly where they were. Cas had failed to mention that ability.

"Yeah. That's right."

The angel nodded. "In that case, the nearest dragon is in Chicago. As for getting a claw, that will be...difficult."

"Didn't exactly expect a walk in the park. Define difficult." Crowley's tone was dry.

"They don't give them up easily. Dragon body parts are powerful magical components. You'll have to kill him."

Sam's shoulders slumped. Their last encounter with a dragon hadn't gone well, and they'd had a slaying sword. Now? "Then it's impossible."

Another look from Crowley. This one looked like _don't give up yet, mate_.

Rachiel was shaking his head. "No, not impossible. Just difficult." He frowned again. "The easiest way is to obtain a blade forged in the blood of a dragon, but--” A look of disgust came across his face. “--you and your brother seem to have destroyed one of those already.”

Sam shrugged but didn’t say anything. It was the truth.

Crowley spoke. “You imply there’s another way.”

A look of pride crossed the angel’s features. “Of course, there is another way, though few know of it.”

Sam and Crowley waited for a moment before the demon sighed and said, “And that way would be?”

Apparently, the angel had been waiting for that because Rachiel smiled and said, “Your books usually get things wrong, but there is a book for children that got it right. All dragons have a weak spot."

Sam blinked. "You mean _The Hobbit_ , don't you? How Smaug had a spot without scales." He half-expected Dean to make some comment about how much of a geek he was. It hurt to hear only silence.

"That is correct."

“And we can kill it if we stab it in the weak spot?”

A slight frown crossed the angel’s face. “Lacking in subtlety, but essentially, yes.”

"What about the one in Chi-town then?" Crowley asked. "What's his weak spot?"

"It's not a what. It's a where." Rachiel seemed to think for a moment. Finally, he said, "If memory serves, he has a weak point at the joint where his right leg meets his body. Even a normal blade will grievously injure him there."

Crowley shook his head. "Can't say I ever imagined getting that close to a dragon's naughty bits. Might be interesting."

Now it was Sam's turn to send a _not now_ glare. "You're sure there's no other way? We have to kill him?"

The angel shrugged. "It's up to you, but I've never heard of anyone taking a body part from a live dragon."

"Dragon parts are worth a fortune in the right circles, mate. Set you, your brother and his boyfriend up for life. Several lives, in fact."

"We are not selling dragon parts, Crowley!"

The ex-demon shrugged. "Just a thought."

"Is that all you require of me?" Rachiel's tone was haughty.

Sam nodded. "Pretty much." He paused before adding, "Oh, just one more thing. Leave Cas alone. He's human and not a part of this anymore."

Rachiel's face twisted in a sneer. "Oh, my brother still has much to pay for. His being human will just make it all the sweeter."

Sam took a step forward, but Crowley put a hand on his shoulder. "It's what he wants, mate. You break the circle, and he's free. Don't let him get to you."

Sam took a deep breath, knowing Crowley was right. "Consider yourself warned. Dean gets pretty cranky though when someone threatens someone close to him." He turned to leave, Crowley following close behind.

"Wait!"

Sam turned. "What?"

Rachiel motioned to the flaming circle. "You're not leaving me like this, are you?"

Crowley grinned and waved a hand. The holy oil went out, but the sigils remained. Once the flames were out, he tossed a cell phone into the circle. Rachiel picked it up and held it uncertainly. "What is this for?"

"Human babies use them. I'm sure a big, bad angel like yourself can figure it out. Call your buddies and hope one of them will let you out."

And with that, Sam and Crowley left Rachiel behind.

***

Castiel had started on the warding while Benny and Dean prepared to deal with the Wendigo. He was just putting the finishing touches on the first ward when he heard footsteps. In one smooth move, he grabbed his stone axe and whirled, to see the vampire approaching. Once again, he was reminded of his human state. As an angel, he would have known who it was without looking.

"Where's Dean? Is everything all right?'

Benny shook his head, the motion firm and reassuring. "He's fine. Just wanted to fix the edge on his axe and tighten the wrapping."

"Ah," Cas said and put down his axe to return to the ward.

"I'm no threat to you, you know."

Cas sighed and turned back around, cocking his head in the motion he knew amused Dean. "Of course not. You've been a good ally."

Benny grinned. "That's right. I forgot how literal you can be. Let me try again. What I meant was that I'm no threat to you and Dean. And what you have between you."

Cas shook his head. "There is nothing between us."

Benny's eyes flashed in the pale light. "That's bullshit, and you know it, Castiel."

"Call me Cas."

Benny blinked, his earlier anger shifting to confusion. "What?"

"Please call me Cas. I find that I prefer it now."

Benny's dark eyes softened with understanding. "Less to remind you of what you've lost?"

"Something like that, yes." Actually, that was exactly it. Every time someone called him by his full name, the pain of his lost grace stabbed him. Dean's diminutive form of his name didn't have the same result.

"All right then, Cas. But you don't get to distract me that easily. There most certainly is something between you and Dean. I've seen the way you look at him. Like the sun rises and sets on him. And he gives you the same looks. Not to mention how he was the last time he was here."

Curiosity sparked in him. "What do you mean?"

Benny chuckled, the sound low and deep. "Running all over creation. About all I could get out of him was 'where's the angel' and 'we've got to find the angel.'" A frown crossed his rugged features for a moment. "It took me a while to get it. I mean, he didn't talk much about you. And when he did, he'd jump between stuff like 'he dragged me out of Hell, man' and 'he broke my brother.' Made it hard to figure out what he really felt about you. Then we found you by the river, and when he saw you for the first time I got it."

"Got what?"

Benny shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you? When I saw the look on his face, I knew that, as conflicted as he might be, he was crazy in love with you."

"That can't be. Dean and I talked before we came here. He said--"

Benny finished for him, a knowing look in his eye. "He said he didn't know what he felt, right? That's Dean for you. Come on, man. You've known him longer than I have. Surely, you've figured out by now that Dean and emotions have an uncomfortable relationship, at best. He feels stuff. Strongly too. But try to get him to talk about them? Easier to get a vampire to give up drinking from the source. And you know I know what I'm talking about there."

Cas wasn't sure what to think. Benny seemed so certain. And, yes, he did know about how difficult Dean found it to talk about emotion. He talked about family and caring. But rarely, if ever, had Cas heard him use the word "love." "But with what I've done--"

Again, Benny shook his head. "That won't stop Dean. I mean, come on. His brother started the Apocalypse--"

"But I devastated Heaven. And killed thousands on Earth."

Benny put one heavy hand on Castiel's shoulder. He allowed it, ashamed at how much he craved contact in this human body. "Cas, I know how Dean feels about angels...present company excepted. I doubt what you did in Heaven matters to him. As for what you did on Earth?" Benny shrugged. "Sam's actions caused just about as much harm, and he forgave his brother a long time ago. I don't know what happened this last year. Dean and I only talked a few times, but I'm sure it was nothing he can't get past. Give him some time. He's a good man. He'll get there if you give him a chance."

"I don't know."

"I do, Cas. Believe me. And don't worry. I won't be in your way."

Cas moved away a few inches. "I still don't understand."

The vampire sighed and leaned against a nearby tree. "Do you know that Dean and I had a thing going the last time he was here?"

"If by 'thing,' you mean you had sex, yes. Dean mentioned it." He could hear the chill in his tone, but he couldn't regret it.

"Then you need to know that after we found you, it never happened again. As soon as I saw him with you, I knew where his heart lay, and there was no way I was getting between you. I love him as a brother, and I'll be honest. If you weren't in the picture, I could love him as a lot more than that. But you are in the picture, and you're the one he really wants. It didn't happen while we were topside either, and it won't happen again."

Cas couldn't help it. He was glad to hear it. Something eased within him. He didn't know if he'd ever have Dean, not the way he really wanted, but he was glad he wouldn't have to fight Benny for him. He'd grown to like the vampire, and he wanted him for a friend. Not an enemy.

"Thank you, Benny."

The vampire nodded, his eyes warm. "I'd like us to be friends, Cas. I know we didn't get off on the right foot the last time, but it was really good to see you again."

"And to see you also." He cocked his head again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How did it happen between you and Dean?"

Benny's eyes widened. "You know it's generally considered to be the height of bad manners to kiss and tell?"

Cas lowered his eyes. "I apologize--"

Benny reached out and clapped him on his shoulder. "Ah, hell. It's a human thing, and I haven't been human for a long time." His tone softened. "And it actually might help you to hear it." He took a deep breath and said, "It was after a particularly bad day. I don't know how many monsters we'd killed, and we were both drenched in blood. I found us a stream, and we'd stripped off our shirts to clean up."

Cas couldn't help but flashing to several memories of Dean, shirtless, sweat running down his torso.

Benny continued. "Anyway, I'm not sure what was going through his head, but he just started crying. Now I'd never seen him do that before. Wasn't even sure he could, if you know what I mean."

Cas did. All too well.

"I put an arm around him, just friendly like. I didn't mean anything by it, but the next thing I knew, Dean had turned in my grip and was kissing me like a starving man who'd just found food for the first time. I tried to pull away, figuring he didn't really mean it. But he wouldn't let me go, and it just happened."

Benny glanced down at the ground. "It didn't happen many times, just twice after that. We found you just a couple of weeks later, but he needed it. Not the sex, per se. But the closeness."

Cas nodded. "He does have a tendency to think good things won't happen to him."

Benny chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. "You think?" After a moment, he added, "And you are a good thing for him. He needs someone he can worry just enough about that he feels needed, but someone who can also handle themselves in a fight. You fit that well."

"So do you."

The vampire shrugged. "Like I said, maybe in another time and place, but this ain't it."

"Benny, where the Hell are you? We need to get going." Dean's voice sounded from nearby.

Benny shot Cas a quick grin and pushed away from the tree he'd been leaning against. "Duty calls." He yelled in Dean's general direction. "I'm over here, talking to Cas."

"Well get your ass over here," came the response.

"On my way." Benny paused to say to Castiel, "Think about what I've said, man. You're too good for each other. I'm pretty sure if you say something when you're topside, he'll respond."

Cas shrugged. "I will try. But for now, I believe you need to get 'your ass' over there." He gave Benny a quick grin.

The vampire laughed and headed off. Castiel went back to his warding, feeling both lighter and more conflicted than he could ever remember.

***

Sam and Crowley arrived on the outskirts of Chicago, and Sam started keeping an eye out for a place to crash.

"So, what's the plan?" Crowley asked, glancing at the cityscape around them. "How do we find a dragon in all of this?"

Sam shrugged. "It's easy. This is just a hunt, like the hundreds Dean and I have done. We find a place to make home base and start research."

Crowley started shaking his head at the mention of a "home base."

"What?" Sam asked.

"We are not staying in one of those flea-bitten rattletraps you Winchester brothers seem to favor. I have standards."

Sam snorted. "That may be, but we have a budget, and it doesn't stretch to 5-star establishments."

Crowley shook his head. "Oh, ye of little faith. I'll settle for a 4-star hotel, and I know just how to make that happen." He nodded in the direction of a tall building with the Hilton logo near the roofline. "That will do nicely."

Sam shook his head. "No way we can afford that."

Crowley tapped his chest. "Former Crossroads demon, remember? Deals are a way of life for me. Trust me." He glanced down at his clothes, seemed to concentrate for a moment.

Sam blinked. Crowley's suit had been looking somewhat the worse for wear. They'd washed out most of the blood stains, but nothing could conceal the evidence that the ex-demon had been wearing the clothes hard. Now, however, they looked fresh from the cleaners, precise creases in the trouser legs, and the jacket hanging just so off his shoulders. Even the shackles looked shiny and like they were part of the look.

Crowley nodded to himself. "That's better. I thought I had just enough juice to pull that off." He turned to Sam. "Want to see how it's done?"

Sam shrugged, a part of him wanting to see this, and he took the next exit and pulled up in front of the hotel. The Impala's engine throbbed, seeming out of place among BMWs and other four-door cars. "All right," he said when he'd parked. "How does this work?"

Crowley climbed out of the front seat and glanced around. "Let's head inside to the lobby. Then I'll tell you how we'll play this."

The entered the lobby. Sam felt completely out of place in his rough jeans and plaid shirt. Several patrons gave him looks and then pointedly ignored him.

Crowley touched his shoulder. "Don't pay them any mind, mate." His eyes were scanning the reception area. Then he smiled, apparently seeing what he'd been looking for. "Perfect. Better than I'd expected. This will work nicely."

"What will?"

Crowley ignored the question, instead motioning Sam to a corner. "Stand here. Look irritated." He paused and then said, "Channel that Misha Collins chap. You know, the one from that alternate universe you boys ended up in."

"How'd you know about that?"

Crowley shrugged. "I have good sources. Anyway, stand over here and act like him. I'll take care of the rest." He walked off to the reception area and approached a tall, good-looking young man standing behind the counter.

Sam wasn't sure what was going on, but he figured he could play the role. He took out his phone and fiddled with it, like he was sending a text. He scowled at it, giving it his best "Bitchface #9," as Dean had dubbed it. He pretended that Dean had left him waiting, and that he was fed up with figuring out where he'd gone. It wasn't difficult acting.

After a moment, he peeked up from under his brows, trying to surreptitiously see what Crowley was doing.

The young man was busy with the computer. He glanced up at that moment, and Sam considered looking back at his phone. Instead, he went with his instincts and gave the man "Bitchface #14." That one always got a good reaction from Dean.

Apparently it worked on hotel employees too because the man went back to typing on his computer. Crowley gave him a subtle thumbs up and a wink.

Sam went back to his phone, and a couple of minutes later, Crowley came back with a big grin, holding up two room keys.

"Come on," he said in a low voice. "That worked perfectly. I got us a nice suite with two bedrooms."

They moved to the elevators, and as soon as they were alone in one of the cars, Sam asked, "How'd you do it?"

Crowley grinned. "Easy, mate. I told him you were a film star, and you'd been mugged and lost your wallet. We needed a place to crash until you could get situated. You played your role perfectly, and he gave us a room without needing to see some ID."

"But won't we still need to pay?"

The ex-demon shook his head. "Nope. I've taken care of that too."

"How?"

He shrugged. "$300 a night is a bit low for me, but sometimes you've got to settle."

It took Sam a moment, but he finally got it. The doors opened, and he glanced around the hallway. Empty. Then he said, with a hiss, "You're paying for our room with sex?"

"But of course," came the calm, satisfied reply. "I promised I'd show him some things he'd only dreamed of. And I will. I do keep my word." A pause. "Most of the time, at least."

Sam looked his companion up and down. "Um, don't take this the wrong way, but you're old. And balding."

Crowley seemed amused as he found their room and opened the door. "Of course. There are plenty of young men who go for the whole 'Daddy' look."

Sam shook his head. No way he'd ever get that image out of his memory. He stepped in and glanced around the suite. It was nice, many steps above where he and Dean usually stayed. Everything was clean and neat. The furnishings actually matched and were easy on the eyes.

The suite opened into a living area with comfortable furniture and a large desk. Sam walked over there and took out his laptop. For once he'd have enough space to spread out his research.

"Any preference on bedroom?" Crowley asked.

Sam noticed there were two, on either side of the living area. He shook his head. "Nope. Take whichever one you want."

Crowley nodded, poked his head into both and announced he'd take the one on the right. Sam barely noticed, busy with booting up his laptop and logging onto the hotel WiFi. Crowley dropped a card on the desk. "Network password." He grinned. "Lover boy down there upgraded us to the best access. Plenty of bandwidth for your porn."

Sam snorted and entered the password. Yeah, the connection was fast.

"So, what now?" Crowley asked as he investigated the contents of the mini-fridge.

Sam was typing rapidly. "I'll look for anything weird. Something like a dragon can't live here without leaving some sign of its presence, if you know what to look for."

"Ah, sounds like a plan. You work on that, and I'll take a nice, hot bath. I might as well enjoy the facilities as long as we have them."

Perversely, Sam was relieved that Crowley's essential personality hadn't changed. His own pleasure still came before everything else.

By the time the ex-demon emerged from his bath, Sam had found some solid leads to track down. "Got something," he said.

Crowley came over, still dressed in a bathrobe, which Sam assumed he'd found in the bathroom. He was still drying his hair. "What did you find?"

Sam frowned at him. "Dude? Seriously? You're going to just walk around like that? You might scar me for life."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You've been fighting monsters since you were practically a baby. I know you've seen worse than me."

Sam shook his head. "Oh, monsters were fine. Walking in on my brother and his bare ass pounding into some chick?" He shuddered, and Crowley grinned.

"Of course, you'd probably have enjoyed that?" Sam let a small smile twitch at the corners of his lips.

"The bare ass? Definitely. The chick? Maybe not. So, are you going to tell me what you found, or shall we continue with the flirting?"

Sam nodded and tapped his screen. "Look at this."

Crowley leaned over him, and Sam caught a whiff of lemon-scented shampoo. "All right. What am I looking at? Some girl was kidnapped?"

"Yeah, but it's not just one girl." The hunter brought up several windows. "There's been five of them. All recent."

Crowley stepped back, a thoughtful frown on his features. "How recent?"

"Within the last four days."

"In other words, since the angels fell."

"Exactly." Sam felt the familiar surge of adrenaline run through him. The feeling that told him everything was coming together for a hunt. "And there's one other thing. Look at the ages of the girls."

Crowley leaned forward again, and increased the font size on the articles. "Older eyes, you know."

Sam snorted but waited for his companion to see it.

"Hmm," Crowley said after a few moments of reading. "All between the ages of 11 and 14."

"Yep. And that means--"

A twinkle in the corner of the ex-demon's eyes. "That moral standards have slipped considerably since my day. Dragons used to be able to count on a girl being a virgin until at least 16."

Sam barked out a laugh. "Well, yeah. That too. But yes, they were all young enough to likely be virgins. Which makes the dragon connection stronger."

Crowley was nodding. "Makes sense. Does he have a particular hunting ground?"

Sam nodded and pulled up a Google Map with four pins marked. "All of them within a five-mile radius."

"Which is only marginally helpful. Still a big area to search."

"True. I was hoping some more research would help narrow it down."

Crowley shook his head. "Oh, I can do better than that. Think you can get us into one of their houses."

"Sure." Sam's tone was dubious. Then his eyes widened. "Oh."

Crowley smiled. "And he gets it. While my demon powers are considerably weakened, I'm still a witch, and we do excel in finding things."

Sam nodded. "Right. Which reminds me. Can you make hex bags?"

"Of course."

"Good. Make two. Extra crunchy kind."

The demon frowned. "Damn. I am getting old."

"Right. Rachiel knows where we are. He might not be able to teleport here, but we've got to assume the angels will figure out phones. And it's likely at least one angel fell near here."

Crowley started walking back to the bathroom. "Let me get dressed. Do you have everything we'll need in the car?"

Sam shook his head. "Not quite. We'll need to do a bit of shopping. Then it'll be time for the FBI to show up at Gillian Keene's house to investigate her disappearance."

***

Dean and Benny moved through the forest. The vampire's steps were completely silent, and the human's weren't much louder. Dean quickly reviewed the lore on wendigos. Inhumanly strong and fast. Practically impossible to kill, with burning being the only way to do it. He hefted his axe. Decapitation worked to slow them down until they could burn it to move it on to...wherever monsters went when they died in Purgatory. He would have liked to still have Ruby's knife, but he and Sam had agreed the younger Winchester would have need of it. An angel blade would have worked too, but something about the axe, similar to the one he'd had the last time he was here, appealed to him.

"Penny for your thoughts, brother?" Benny asked. The vampire carried his own axe, slung casually over one broad shoulder.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing earth shattering. Just pondering the question Cas asked the last time we were here."

"What happens to a monster who dies in Purgatory?"

"Yeah, that one. Ever figure it out?"

Benny shrugged. "Not yet. Not like anyone ever comes back." He clapped Dean's shoulder with the hand not holding the axe. "Well, except for you."

"I'm just like a bad penny." He glanced at the vampire, who had a thoughtful look on his face. "What?"

Benny grinned. "Nothing much. Just had a chat with Cas before you and I headed out."

Dean groaned inwardly, but he knew he couldn't avoid whatever was coming. The vampire was nothing if not persistent. "About what?" he asked, figuring he probably knew the answer.

"About the two of you."

"There is no 'two of us.'" He made sure the quotes were obvious in his voice.

"Funny. That's what he said too. Didn't believe it from him either."

"Benny, we are not having this conversation."

"Why not?" The curiosity was plain in his voice.

"We're just not. We're about to hunt a wendigo. It's not the time to discuss relationships."

Benny shrugged, "Suit yourself, brother, but we're about to head into a war. He's human now. No do overs. Maybe not the best time to leave things unresolved between you."

Dean shook his head. The vampire had figured him out quickly the last time he'd been in Purgatory, and he knew he'd not fooled him when they'd finally found "the angel." Why was everyone suddenly so keen on him and Cas "resolving things"?

Suddenly, Benny's head lifted, and his nostrils flared. Dean shifted the axe, making sure he had a firm grip. "Show time?"

Benny nodded. "Soon now. We've entered its territory."

"You say this one is old?"

"Old and tough. He's been here longer than anyone can remember. Not an Alpha, but close."

Dean frowned. "What? You guys hang out over drinks and compare notes or something?"

"Not exactly." The vampire's eyes darted in every direction as he finished. "But we do talk sometimes. Even monsters get lonely."

Dean knew, intellectually, that monsters had most, if not all, the same emotions as humans, but he didn't often get such a stark reminder.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "We're being watched."

"Yes. He's assessing us."

Without needing to talk about it, Dean and Benny shifted so they were back to back. Dean's eyes moved back and forth, covering the arc in front of him.

When the attack came, it was fast and brutal. The wendigo came in from Dean's left side, obviously assessing him as the weaker of the two. Dean saw him coming, though, and waited, timing his swing for just the right moment.

Just before the monster's claws ripped his head from his body, Dean pivoted on one hip and swung the axe at the wendigo's neck. The creature aborted his attack and dodged the swing, moving fast to avoid the blade. Unfortunately, his move put him closer to Benny, who had been moving in for his own attack. The vampire slashed at the wendigo's neck, and only a superhuman effort allowed the monster to slide out of the way. Benny's swing only grazed one shoulder, drawing blood too pale to be human.

The wendigo snarled and dashed to one side, obviously intending to come back at them again. Dean and Benny were ready, and returned to their back-to-back position.

Again, the monster charged them. Again, it was repulsed.

It roared its displeasure, vanishing back into the woods.

"Damn," Dean said. "Now we'll have to hunt it down."

Benny shook his head. "No worries, brother. I think I know where it's going. There's a small rise over there where it likes to lure its prey."

"And that's good how?"

The vampire grinned, showing long white fangs. "It's done this long enough to be predictable. Disadvantage of age. You fall into patterns. I know how to turn this against it."

Dean shrugged. "Just don't get us killed."

"I won't."

Benny started moving, and Dean had to work hard to keep up with him. Vampires could move fast when they needed to, but his friend kept his pace down to something a human could manage.

Moments later, they arrived at the rise, and Dean nodded to himself. It was a good hunting ground. Limited room to maneuver and what looked like a long drop to one side. Wendigos didn't mind their meat well tenderized by a 50-foot drop.

"What's the plan?" Dean asked.

Benny didn't have time to respond. The wendigo charged them from the woods, silent this time. Dean only knew it was happening from the vampire's response. Benny shoved Dean out of the way, and the hunter barely managed to keep his feet under him.

A moment later, the vampire attacked the wendigo, and Dean could barely follow the motions of the two monsters. It was obvious the wendigo wanted to break free and go after the weaker human, but Benny didn't give him enough of an opening.

Then Dean got it. Each attack from the vampire was positioned to back the wendigo another step closer to the edge. The hunter hefted his axe and moved closer, ready for what he knew was coming.

Finally, Benny got what he was aiming for. The wendigo whirled to avoid an attack and ended up teetering on the edge of the rise. Dean moved in, axe raised, and the wendigo was too off-balance to prevent the slash which severed the monster's head, which seemed to do a slow-motion fall to the rocks below. Rust-red stains proved the wendigo had used this location frequently.

The monster's body slumped to the ground in front of hunter and vampire.

"Damn!" Benny said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Now one of us has to climb down there to gather the head so we can burn it with the body."

Dean just laughed, the sound alien in the gray-tinged woods.

***

Crowley was still complaining as the Impala pulled into the Keene's driveway. "I still think I should have been Peart and you Lee. I've got wicked rhythm."

Sam snorted. "Stop with wicked, and we'll leave it at that. Besides, I've already created the IDs. Too late to change them now." He unfolded his height from the car.

"Oh to still have my powers," Crowley said as he followed.

"Because changing ID photos are definitely the best use of demonic powers."

Crowley shrugged. "You'd be surprised what people will wish for."

"No doubt." They reached the steps leading up to the house, and both assumed the bland expression of FBI agents. Sam had to admit that Crowley cut a believable figure in his dark suit. He looked as if it were a role he'd played before.

The demon knocked on the door, the tapping firm enough to be heard throughout the small, single-story bungalow. Sam glanced around the well-maintained yard and freshly painted porch. "It's not a big house, but they take good care of it."

Crowley was also glancing around, but his gaze seemed to be taking in the surrounding neighborhood, not just the house. "Did a deal with someone in this neighborhood a while back." His eyes grew distant, as if he were calculating. "Think it's coming due soon."

Sam shook his head, not needing the reminder of whose company he was keeping. Again, he missed his brother. At that moment, the door opened, and he was jerked back to their role.

A middle-aged woman dressed in a paisley house dress, curly hair losing its perm, brown eyes sad, peered out at them. "Yes?"

Sam and Crowley held their badges up, the motions so synchronized they might have been practiced. "Agents Lee and Peart, ma'am. Are you Mrs. Keene?"

She nodded, a frown forming on her face. "Yes, but we've already spoken to the police."

Ordinarily, Sam would be the one to speak the reassuring words to gain them entrance, but before he could even open his mouth, Crowley spoke, his British accent gone, replaced by a perfectly indeterminate Midwestern neutrality.

"We know you have, ma'am. However, the local SAC wanted us to look further into your daughter's disappearance. We think it may be related to some other cases."

The frown deepened, but she opened the door and ushered them in.

Crowley continued to take the lead, and Sam remained quiet, fascinated to watch the former King of Hell at work. Within moments, all three of them were comfortably settled in the living room, tea in hand, while Mrs. Keene gave them the details of her daughter's disappearance. "Jilly always came straight home after school. She was always a good girl like that. So, I knew right away something was wrong." A tear slipped down her face. "The police said she was just a runaway."

"Did you notice anything strange a day or two before she disappeared?" Crowley asked, his voice firm but sympathetic. "People you didn't know hanging around. Anything like that?"

She nodded. "The police asked that too, but they didn't seem interested when I told them yes, I had seen someone."

"Can you describe the person?" Sam asked.

"Of course. I've had plenty of time to think about it. It's either that or worry. He was tall and dark-skinned. Not black, mind you. More like Middle Eastern, although he didn't exactly have that look."

"What kind of look did he have?" Sam asked.

She shrugged. "He was tall. I know Middle Eastern people can be tall, but his features seemed Caucasian. And there was something...I don't know...alien about him." She shook her head. "I know that doesn't make any sense, but that was my impression."

Sam nodded. "Trust me. We know what you mean."

Her eyes widened. "You do? You mean you believe me?"

"You'd be surprised what we've seen, ma'am," Crowley said. "Any chance we could take a look at your daughter's room?"

Sam was certain she'd have refused when they had first arrived, but simple belief in her story had changed her attitude. "Certainly. If you think it might help." She stood up and motioned them towards the stairs. "It's right up here."

Crowley started toward the stairs. When she followed, he turned and said, "No reason for us all to tramp upstairs. Agent Peart has a few more questions for you."

Sam took the hand-off smoothly and continued the questioning. He wasn't looking for anything in specific anymore, but he knew Crowley would be better able to gather what he needed without the presence of an anxious mother.

A few minutes later, Crowley came back downstairs and nodded once. Good. He had what he needed.

"Did you find anything that might help, agent?" Mrs. Keene asked.

The demon shook his head. "No. It looks as if the police were thorough."

Her shoulders sagged in obvious disappointment. "Oh. That's too bad."

Clearly, they had impressed her with their investigative prowess, which boded ill for the local police, if that was the case. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Keene. You've been very helpful. We'll be in touch as soon as we know something."

The woman laid a hand on Sam's arm. He could feel her trembling. "Tell me the truth, agent. Do you think there's any hope of finding my daughter alive?"

Sam hated it when they asked the question. He particularly hated it when they phrased it that way. "It's too soon for us to tell." Stalling was all he could do right now. "We still need to take a look at the police file. We'll know more then."

He took a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Here's my number. Call if you think of anything else that might help."

"I will." Her tone was eager. Sam had the sinking feeling he'd hear from her again, and he was already hating the thought of giving her bad news.

They left. As soon as they were back in the car, Sam asked. "What did you get?"

Crowley held up a napkin. Folded within the paper were several strands of hair. "This should do it. I'll need a few things for the spell."

Sam nodded. "Give me the list. Whatever we don't have, we'll buy. Time is short."

***

Cas finished the last ward and stood back, reviewing the combination of Enochian letters, lines and other arcane symbols. He nodded. Yes, everything was correct and complete.

He glanced in the direction where Benny and Dean had gone nearly eight hours earlier. He hoped they were all right and had been able to defeat the Wendigo. Wondering how much longer he should wait before going after them, he picked up his angel blade--how he missed being able to summon and dismiss it at will--and headed back to the camp.

Halfway there, he heard footsteps behind him and whirled, blade ready. He relaxed when he saw Benny and Dean approaching. Starting toward them, he asked, "Did you kill it?''

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he's gone. Did you finish the wards?"

Cas returned the nod. "Yes. All the ones in Benny's territory are complete. Now I can finish the last two."

"Think they'll really work?" Benny asked as he came even with the former angel.

"I believe they will. The theory is sound, if a bit unorthodox."

Dean cocked his head. "What do you mean by that?"

Cas shrugged. "The wardings are Sumerian. Strictly speaking, they didn't believe in Purgatory, so there's always the danger this won't work exactly as we expect, but, short of testing it out, I've examined it every way I know how. It should work."

Benny raised an eyebrow. "Hardly an enthusiastic endorsement."

"I believe we are improvising. Nothing quite like this has happened, as far as I can remember."

Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder. "And your memory goes back pretty far." He looked at the vampire. "If he says it'll work, that's good by me. And if it doesn't--" He shrugged. "--then we come up with Plan B. That's what we usually do, and the world hasn't ended yet."

Cas frowned, and Dean grinned at him. "Well, technically it hasn't. Come darned close, but not quite."

"That isn't very reassuring, Dean," the former angel said.

Both Dean and Benny broke into laughter. When the hunter finally got his breath back, he said, "We're in Purgatory, Cas, and you want absolutes?"

Cas thought a moment, recognized the absurdity in the situation, and allowed a small smile to cross his lips. Then he said, "By the way, Benny, I've designed the wards to not affect you."

The vampire's eyes widened. "You mean I'll be able to pass through them?"

"Yes."

Dean was nodding. "Good job, Cas. That could be handy."

Benny's expression grew thoughtful. "Any chance that exception could be extended?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if I could find a couple of buddies I trust, could they also be allowed through the wards?"

Cas thought for a moment. "I think so, yes. You see, I didn't make the exception specific to you. I made it specific to anyone whose blood powers the spell."

Dean turned to Benny. "You sure of your friends?"

Benny shifted his axe from one shoulder to another as he answered. "I can't be certain until I talk to them, but that Wendigo had a nice territory. If I offer to hand it over, without a fight for...certain concessions, I think they might go along with it."

"Concessions being helping us guard the souls?"

"Exactly."

Cas could see Dean thinking it through as they entered their small camp. "Can't say I'm completely comfortable with it, but I can't deny the help would be appreciated. I'm not sure who we'll get when the souls show up, and having a couple more around who knew how to fight Purgatory monsters could tip the balance our way."

"That's what I was thinking."

Dean turned to Cas. "It's your plan, and you're the one who made the wards. You've got final say on this one, man."

Cas was confused. Dean always wanted the final say. What did this mean?

"Cas," Benny prompted. The vampire's expression was warm and pleased.

Cas nodded, the motion firm. "I say we give it a try. As long as one of us is positioned to watch them, we should be able to act if they turn on the humans."

"All right then, Benny. When do you want to go recruiting?"

"I'll do it now, while you and Cas complete the wards. The two I'm thinking about aren't too far away, just a few hours if I hurry."

"Then hurry," Dean said. "Cas, let's go finish up the wards before Death comes and kicks both our asses."

Cas followed Dean in the direction of the Wendigo's former territory, a warm glow spreading in his chest. For the first time since they'd come up with this crazy plan, he started to think it might just work.

***

Watching Crowley work was interesting. His motions were practiced and confident, with no wasted motions.

“You’ve done this before,” Sam said.

“Once or twice, yeah. Now be quiet unless you want me to mess it up.”

Minutes later, Crowley finished with a nod. “Well that’s that. Do you want the good news or the bad first?”

Sam shrugged. “Whichever.”

“Okay. Good news is that I know where she is. Or rather was. The bad news is that she’s dead.”

“We kind of figured that. Where?”

Crowley pulled up a map of Chicago on Sam’s laptop and scrolled until he found what he was looking for. “Right there.” He pointed to the intersection of 66th and S. Lowe Avenue. Sam reached over and switched to Street View, which showed a rusted overpass. He navigated around. “Englewood area. Not the nicest looking place ever.”

“Dragons tend to hunt where they can find easy prey. I doubt that’s where he lived. Just where he dumped what was left of the body.”

“Then can we find him there?”

Crowley shook his head. “Probably not. But if we’re lucky we can pick up some trace, and I can use that to get a lock on him. Sort of a leap frog approach.”

Sam closed his laptop and stood up. “Let’s go then. This is taking too long.”

On their way to Englewood, Sam’s phone rang. He handed it to Crowley to answer. “It’s Kevin.”

The former demon answered, and from listening to the one-sided conversation, he gathered that Kevin had figured out the next trial...spell, whatever. A moment later, Crowley said, “Yeah, thanks. We’re getting close to the dragon. Let us know when you figure out the third one.”

“What is it?” Sam asked.

Crowley was shaking his head. “This one’s going to be tricky. We’ll need Death’s help on it.”

“How do you mean?”

“We need to Reap a soul that is perfectly in balance.”

Sam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “How the heck do we do that?”

Crowley shrugged. “Finding the soul shouldn’t be hard. King of Hell, you know. I know people. However, assuming the guy, or gal, isn’t anywhere near dying, talking a Reaper into doing the deed early will be the challenge.”

“Can you contact Death?”

The ex-demon thought for a moment. “Probably.” He gave Sam an appraising look. “You okay with me making a few calls?”

Sam definitely wasn’t okay with it. While Crowley had been playing straight with him so far, he knew the former King of Hell had his own agenda here. What that was the hunter had no way of telling. However, those contacts were the best way to find the soul in question.

Finally, he glanced over at his companion, who sported a small smile that said he knew exactly what Sam had been thinking. Sam sighed. “You know I’m not, but you also know we don’t have much choice.”

“So glad to be trusted unconditionally, Sam.”

The tall man rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with that. Need I remind you of our history?”

“Hardly.” He hefted the phone. “Mind if I use this?”

Sam waved his acquiescence. “Go ahead.” He continued driving while Crowley made the calls. The fact that most of the conversations weren’t in English didn’t reassure him at all.

He was parking on 66th Street when Crowley hung up a call and said, “I think I’ve found us a soul. Not too far away. Word is there’s someone fitting the description just out of Detroit.”

“What’s the story?” He turned off the engine.

Crowley shrugged and tossed back the phone. “Perfectly balanced souls aren’t exactly common, you know. Guy’s apparently big into yoga, mediations, Zen and all that. He’s done some bad stuff, nothing major, which means he’s also not done anything noteworthy on the good side either. Kind of how it works.”

“So he sort of drifts along, metaphorically speaking?”

“Pretty much.” Crowley opened his door and climbed out. “Doubt he’ll be much missed, but the bad news is he’s perfectly healthy. No sign of his kicking off anytime soon.”

As Sam got out on his side, he said, “Damn.” He thought about what he’d just said and amended it with. “Well, not that it’s a bad thing for him, but it does make our job harder.”

"One thing at a time. Let's find the dragon and then worry about the balanced soul."

"Good advice."

They walked around the entire area, both their eyes locked on the ground, looking for any sort of clue to the presence of a dragon. Finally, Sam knelt and said, "Come look at this."

Crowley sauntered over, and Sam mentally rolled his eyes. Trust a demon to make a production out of everything. The other man knelt to look at what Sam had found, a small piece of what, at first glance looked like metal, colored a deep red. However, a closer look revealed that it gleamed iridescent with many colors.

"Look like a dragon scale to you?" Sam asked.

Crowley picked it up and examined it closely. "I think it is."

"Can you use it for a location spell?"

"No reason why I shouldn't be able to. We've got plenty of materials left over from the last one."

"Let's head back to the hotel then. Hopefully they won't notice the burning smell this time."

Crowley frowned as he stood up. "What? I sorted it, didn't I?"

Sam shook his head. "I'd rather not have to watch you seduce the help again, thank you very much."

Crowley grinned. "But he was delightful."

Sam let his full body shudder answer for him. The ex-demon just laughed his way back to the Impala.

***

As they walked back to the final warding location, Castiel remained alert, knowing that the monsters in Purgatory were waiting for any sign of weakness to come in and claim new territory. Word of the Wendigo's defeat wouldn't take long to spread.

He glanced over at Dean and noticed the hunter seemed distracted. Oh, his eyes were moving as if he were watching for danger, but something about his posture told the former angel that the motions were reflex.

He wasn't certain what to do. Should he ask what was wrong? Dean wasn't usually forthcoming about feelings. "I'm fine" was practically the Winchester mantra, and Cas was well aware he'd fallen into the habit as well. On the other hand, distracted hunters often became dead hunters.

Finally, he said, "Dean? Is something wrong?"

The hunter shook himself, and his eyes snapped back to full awareness. "Huh? Why do you ask?"

"You were looking around as if watching for danger, but it didn't look like you were actually seeing anything around you."

Dean smiled, his expression rueful. "Oh. I guess you're right. I was thinking."

"About something you care to share?" Cas hefted his blade as he spoke, and he looked harder into the forest, thinking he'd heard something moving in the underbrush.

Dean was instantly on alert beside him, and they both stood still for a moment, ready. When nothing charged them, they both relaxed slightly and continued walking.

Cas was certain his companion would use the distraction as an excuse to dodge the question, and he was surprised when Dean said, "Benny and I talked earlier."

Cas stiffened, suddenly sure Dean was going to say that he and the vampire were going to resume their former relationship.

However, before he could begin to form a response, Dean continued. "He said you and I needed to talk. About us."

Cas frowned, wondering what that meant. "I'm not sure I understand, Dean. You made it clear that there was no 'us' right now but that you'd think about it later."

Dean shrugged. "Guess 'later' came a bit sooner than I'd thought."

He didn't say anything else for several minutes, and Cas had decided that was the end of the odd conversation when Dean said, "Sit down a minute, Cas. I can't say this while we're walking."

Cas found a nearby fallen log and sat, eyes still darting back and forth, watching the woods, alert for danger. However, looking for danger was so second nature to him by now that following a conversation didn't significantly reduce his awareness. "Yes, Dean."

The hunter settled himself on a boulder and sighed before beginning. "I've always had this image of myself, Cas, and it involved girls. I like girls. I like sex with them."

"I know this about you, Dean. I held your soul in my hands and put it back together, piece by piece."

Dean shook his head. "Then you didn't pay enough attention. That's only part of who I am. Another part of me...well...has looked at guys when I didn't think anyone would notice. I was always pretty sure Dad wouldn't have approved. I guess I never thought Sammy would mind, but even after Dad died, it just didn't seem right for me to do anything that would have made us even more outsiders."

Had he noticed any of that when he put Dean's body and soul back together? He wasn't certain. Perhaps he had and just hadn't recognized what he'd seen. What he did understand was wanting to fit in. Wanting to be like his peers. If he'd been better at it, perhaps he wouldn't be human now. Of course, he also wouldn't have met Dean, and he would have regretted that. All he said, though, was, "I can understand that."

Dean wasn't looking at him. The hunter's gaze remained on the ground, though from the alertness in his posture, Cas knew he'd be ready to fight the moment he heard something approach. "Anyway, then you came along, and while you were pretty annoying and a dick early on, there was always something about you that, you know, tugged at me. I was mostly able to ignore it, until you died. When you were gone, I don't know, it just devastated me. I drank too much and was angry all the time. I know it drove Sam and Bobby crazy, but I couldn't help it."

Cas didn't know what to say. This was a side of Dean he'd never seen before. The hunter was sharing feelings and being open about what had happened. He wasn't hiding behind "I'm fine," and the former angel wasn't sure how to handle it.

Dean continued, still looking at the ground. "Then you were back. Oh you didn't know who you were, but even as Emmanuel, you were still you. Sammy was going nuts. I didn't know if he'd make it, and yet part of me couldn't stop thinking how damn good it was to have you back. Riding with you in the car was both the most uncomfortable experience, and one of the best nights of my life."

Dean finally looked up. "That's when I pretty much figured that what I felt for you was love, but I didn't have a clue what to do or say about it."

Cas froze. Dean has said love. He'd said it straight out, no stumbling, no uncertainty. He hadn't realized until then how much he'd wanted to hear it. And now he still had no idea what to do.

Some instinct told him that Dean had revealed something deep about himself. That gesture needed to be returned. Cas gathered his thoughts and said, "When Daphne found me, she took care of me. I didn't realize until later how unusual it was for a woman to take in a strange man and just take care of him, without expecting anything in return."

Dean said nothing. Just listened.

"She started calling me her husband. Now I realize it was to forestall rumors, but she meant it. There's no question she loved me, and did so almost from the start. She...taught me of the ways of men and women."

A faint smile crossed Dean's face. "You mean she taught you about sex."

Cas nodded. "Among other things. Like laundry and cleaning house." He shook his head. Stay on topic. "Anyway, the experience was pleasant enough, and she said I was a quick learner. However, nothing about it seemed to touch anything deep inside me. For me, it was nice and not much else. I could see it affected her differently, and I didn't understand why I didn't feel it like she did."

He looked Dean directly in his eyes as he said, "Until I banished the demons outside the hospital. As I touched each demon, I remembered more about myself and who I was. I remembered the barn outside Pontiac. I remembered breaking Sam's wall and absorbing what was making him go insane. But the last thing I remembered was how I felt about you. Before I met Daphne, I didn't understand what I felt. But after meeting her, I understood. That was when I realized that I loved you. That I had loved you from the start."

Dean nodded, as if he'd known or guessed some of that. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Cas shrugged. "Why didn't you?"

Dean waved his hand as if to say _touche_. "I always told myself it wasn't the right time. That we had bigger things to deal with."

Cas wanted to say, "bigger than the joining of two souls?" That truly was how he felt about this thing they had, but he knew that was too big for Dean to deal with, at least right now. All he said was, "I understand. I said many of the same things to myself. So why now?"

Dean stood up and took two steps forward to stand directly in front of Castiel. He reached down with a hand. Cas took it, the large palm warm and solid. "Because I realized that, with the life we both lead, if I don't say something, we might never find the right time. So, I'm making now the right time."

With that, he leaned forward and kissed Cas.

Cas froze for a moment, but the feel of Dean's lips on his was so good that he couldn't help himself. He kissed back. He opened his lips, and Dean took him up on the invitation. It was everything he'd imagined, the few times he'd let himself imagine. It was everything kissing Daphne hadn't been, and he wondered how he'd managed to settle for that.  
He wrapped his arms around Dean, holding him close, feeling the hunter's hardness pressing into his stomach. It was wonderful. Dean held him back, moving his hands down to his ass and pulling them together, grinding them with tantalizing friction.  
Although it seemed to last forever, it ended too soon. Dean pulled back, arms still loosely holding him. "Okay?"  
Cas took a breath before answering. "Yes." He wanted to lean back in to take and take until he had all of Dean. However, as his heartbeat slowed, he remembered that they were in the middle of Purgatory. "I suppose this isn't the best place for me to rip your clothes off?"  
Dean's eyes widened before he started laughing. "That wasn't what I expected to hear you say."  
Cas shrugged. "I learned a lot from the pizza man."  
Dean pulled him close for a brief hug before letting go and stepping back. "That was just a taste of what's to come, you know."  
Cas smiled. "Good. " He paused. "Thank you, Dean."  
"You're welcome." Dean glanced around the forest. "Guess we'd better get going and finish those wards. If Death found out we stopped to have sex, he'd reap us both on the spot."  
***  
Crowley performed the finding ritual again, this time with the dragon scale, and finally announced. "Looks like he's hiding out in a nearby warehouse."

Sam glanced up from his computer, where he was trying to figure out how many people who should have died hadn't. The numbers were looking depressing, and even the mainstream media was starting to figure out that something weird was going on. "Let's go then. Looks like things are starting to spiral out of control."

"Fine," Crowley said. "But we need to make one stop along the way."

Forty minutes later, they left Walmart, bags in hand. Sam rolled his eyes. "Things are going to Hell, pretty literally, and you wanted to go shopping?"

The demon motioned to his suit, "Hello? Armani here. You think I'm going to get dragon blood all over this?"

They got to the car, and Crowley changed into jeans and a plain, but well-made buttonup shirt.

"That's a pretty decent shirt," Sam said.

Crowley buttoned his cuffs. "You don't expect me to wear plaid and flannel, do you? I mean, what, is it some sort of hunter uniform?"

Sam shrugged and started the car.

They drove to the warehouse and climbed out of the Impala. Sam opened the back and looked through the arsenal. "What should we take in? Rachiel seemed to think we could do this with regular blades.”

"I'd still vote for angel blades," Crowley said. "They're good for just about anything.”

Sam shrugged and pulled out two silvery blades. He handed one to Crowley. "If this is anything like the demon trials, I'm thinking you need to be the one to slay the dragon and harvest the claw. So, I'm thinking I'll provide a distraction while you move in and take him out."

Crowley hefted his blade. "And as usual, I do all the work."

"This is the wrong time to complain. Now come on."

Sam led the way to the warehouse and looked for a side door. It took a few minutes, but he finally said, "Over here."

Crowley joined him while Sam took out his lockpicks and opened the door. Standing back, the tall Hunter motioned and said, "After you."

The demon muttered something under his breath but stepped forward and entered the warehouse. Sam followed, close on his heels and stifled a gasp as the stench hit him. He'd smelled some terrible things in his life, but this was right up there. It was a disgusting miasma of blood, sweat, fear and all the associated scents you would imagine in a combination of animal lair and torture chamber.

"You'd think he'd tidy up occasionally," Crowley said in a low whisper as he peered around the large room.

"Guess he doesn't have many guests."

The demon gave a low chuckle. "Oh, he has plenty of guests. Just not the kind you worry about cleaning up for."

"You're right about that," came a deep voice from across the cavernous room. "What brings a human and a demon to my humble abode?"

"I think this is the part where I'm supposed to try flattery," Crowley said.

Sam shifted to give himself room and hefted the angel blade, ready for the dragon to make its move.

Crowley stepped forward, angel blade held low by his side. “Great dragon, we come to ask a favor.”

At that moment, the dragon stepped from the shadows. Of course, Sam had seen other dragons, but this one looked bigger than the two he’d fought before.

Although basically humanoid in form, he stood over seven feet tall, making Sam feel short for the first time in his adult life. The creature was covered in scales, which gleamed darkly in the dim light. Wings extended from his shoulders, and his hands glowed with red heat. A smile of satisfaction completed the image of apex predator on the prowl.

Sam took a step to the right, putting a bit more distance between himself and Crowley. The plan was for Crowley to talk to him, keeping him occupied long enough for Sam to get behind the monster, or as near as he could.

“And what favor might that be?” the dragon asked, his deep bass vibrating in the darkness.

Crowley took a careful step to his left, and Sam edged a bit more to his right. Just a few more, and they’d have the dragon flanked.

The ex-demon extended a hand, palm raised, in a gesture Sam guessed was supposed to indicate sincerity. Could Crowley read dragon body language the way he could human?

“A mere trifle, O Great One.”

The dragon gave a loud snort. “Spare me the empty flattery, Crowley, former King of Hell.”

Sam saw his companion’s eyes widen in surprise, and the dragon nodded. “Oh, yes. I know who you are. I do keep in touch with current events.” His smile reappeared. “The absence of angels has been a lovely opportunity for me.” He frowned before adding, “Although I know who you are, and the identity of your companion, one of the Winchester brothers, I’m at a loss for what you might want from me.”

Once again, Sam cursed their notoriety.

“What is this ‘mere trifle’ of which you speak?”

“But one claw, your eminence. We’d settle for the smallest of them, only a tip, even, if that’s all you’re willing to spare.” Crowley shifted to the left as he spoke, and Sam mirrored the motion at the same time.

All the dragon’s attention seemed to be focused on Crowley, but Sam didn’t let himself trust that. Dragons were plenty smart enough for misdirection. The beast glanced off to one side, as if in consideration, before saying, “No, I don’t think so. Instead why don’t I just kill you before you become a further bother?”

Crowley didn’t respond, but he did shift two quick paces farther to his left. At the same time, the dragon spread his wings, and the red in his hands deepened.

Sam tensed, waiting to see which way the dragon would move. It was a good decision because, instead of going after the ex-demon, which the hunter had expected, it whirled on him, arms extended.

Sam dodged to one side, hoping to distract the dragon from Crowley. The dragon followed him, half running, half flying, crossing the distance between them with frightening speed. When the dragon struck, Sam tried to roll with the blow, but the heat from the dragon’s hands seared him, and he staggered, losing his feet, and his blade, for a crucial few seconds. The sword skidded a few feet away, just out of his reach.

The dragon hovered above him, eyes burning with rage. Sam waited, ready to dodge again, hoping he could move fast enough.

And at that moment Crowley made his move, running nimbly up behind the dragon and sliding underneath him, as if he was stealing home. As he slid under the monster, he struck upward with the angel blade.

The blade glowed white as it entered the dragon’s body, where his leg joined his body. Sam didn’t wait to see if it had worked. He rolled toward his own blade and grabbed it. As he completed his roll, he came up, ready to strike.

He needn’t have bothered. As soon as he regained his feet, he saw the dragon’s eyes change, narrowing to white and black slits. Then the beast fell.

“Quick!” Sam shouted. “Get the claw before he changes back.”

Crowley was already moving, the angel blade descending to neatly slice one claw from the dragon’s hand. He held it up, gazing at it with an odd expression on this face,

“What?” Sam asked.

Crowley shrugged. “I’ve always wondered. If their hands can kill with heat, why do they bother with claws?”

Sam barked out a laugh, clapped the ex-demon on his shoulder and said, “We’ll leave that one for the scholars. Let’s get out of here. It’s a long drive to Detroit.”

Once outside, they started for the car, but before they had gone more than a few steps, Sam fumbled in his pockets. “Hold on a sec.”

Crowley stopped and turned, a questioning look on his face.

Sam pulled out a key and said, “Give me your hands.”

Crowley just stood for a moment. “Is that what I think it is?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, it’s the key to the shackles. I think it’s time they came off.”

Sam unlocked them, hefted them for a moment and then tossed them in a nearby trash can. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

They walked companionably together to waiting Baby.

***

It didn’t take too long for Cas to finish drawing the last wards, and they arrived back in the temporary camp just as Benny showed up, two other monsters in tow.

One of them looked human, which meant there were several possibilities for what he really was. The other, however, was bald, and his exposed skin was largely covered with blue tattoos. With difficulty, Dean controlled his reaction and forced himself to walk with a smooth, even stride. Castiel must have sensed something because the former angel’s hand brushed the hunter’s shoulder, so quickly he might have missed it if his senses weren’t already hyper-alert.

“Brothers!” came Benny’s cheerful greeting. “Your timing is perfect. Bobby and Rashid have both agreed to help us out.”

Dean thought there was something so wrong about a monster bearing the same name as his former father figure.

He nodded at the jinn. “He’s obvious, but what is your other friend?” He just managed to keep any hint of sarcasm out of his tone.

Benny’s eyes twinkled, and Dean knew he hadn’t fooled his friend.

“I’m a werewolf,” Bobby answered. “Benny and I go way back, and I figger I owe him.”

“Plus if you can get new territory out of it?” Benny added.

The werewolf shrugged. “No one said I couldn’t look out for number one along the way.”

Dean motioned to the jinn. “Another long-time friend of yours?”

The jinn shook his head and shifted until his shoulder was touching the werewolf. Dean couldn’t help himself, and his eyebrows rose at the obvious message. Who knew even monsters had relationships?

With an uncomfortable moment of self-clarity, he realized that if he and Cas had acted on their feelings years ago, it would have been much the same thing.

“Where he goes, I go,” Rashid said, his voice firm and matter-of-fact.

Dean found himself nodding. “All right then.” He still wasn’t comfortable working with a jinn, but there weren’t lots of options right now.

“You finished the wards?” Benny asked, directing the question to Castiel.

“I have,” Cas said, eyes darting a question to Dean.

The hunter gave a small nod, and Castiel’s shoulder muscles relaxed slightly.

“All right, then,” the vampire said. “Guess it’s time to get this show on the road.”

“What exactly do we need to do?” Bobby asked.

“I’ll need a bit of blood from each of you for the wards. If your blood is included in the activation ritual, you’ll be able to pass freely through them.”

Dean wondered again if this was a good idea. He trusted Benny, sure. But two unknown monsters?

He realized Benny had moved up beside him. The vampire put a hand on his shoulder, in almost the same place Cas had touched just a moment earlier. “They’re okay, brother,” the vampire said, his voice pitched to carry no farther than his ear.

Dean nodded, still not convinced, but willing to let it go for now. He’d just keep a close eye on both of them. Cas would help with that.

“Do you collect the blood here, or do we need to go to each ward?” the jinn asked.

Cas glanced around the small clearing. “Since I don’t see anything to collect it in to, I think it best if we go to each location. It shouldn’t take too long, if we move quickly.”

“Let’s be about it, then,” Benny said. “We can start here.”

Cas hefted his angel blade and looked at each of the three monsters in turn. "Who first?"

The werewolf and jinn both glanced at each other uncertainly. Dean wondered who would volunteer and wasn't surprised when Benny stepped forward and said, "Go ahead and cut me first. Let them see what happens to me."

Cas nodded and walked over to the ward. The vampire followed him. When they both were in position near the chalk-etched symbols, the former angel said, "Give me your arm."

Benny rolled up his left sleeve and held it out. Dean was reminded of when he and Benny had done the ritual to transfer the vampire's soul. Cas made a smooth, shallow cut and held Benny's arm over the symbols. Two red drops fell on the chalk, sizzling as they hit. Cas chanted a few words in what Dean assumed was Sumerian, and the symbols flashed green for a moment before settling back into quiescent white.

"That's it?" Benny asked, his tone ironic.

Cas shrugged. "It doesn't take much."

Dean chuckled. "I think he meant that he was expecting a bigger light show."

The vampire grinned and turned to his friends. "Think you two can handle that?"

They both nodded, and Cas repeated the ritual with their blood.

A couple of hours later, all the wards were activated, and Benny looked at Dean. "What now, brother?"

A deep voice from behind them answered. "It's about time. Things are getting desperate up there."

Dean sighed and turned to face Death.

The ancient spirit walked over, cane tapping on the dry ground, to investigate one of the wards. "You're sure this will work?" he asked.

"The theory is sound," Cas answered. Dean was pleased that the former angel's tone was confident. "Of course, we won't know for certain until we test it."

Death sighed. "It's not like we have many choices right now." He squared his shoulders. "All right. I'm going to start letting souls through."

Dean stepped forward. "Can you start by only letting through souls with some combat abilities?"

He was surprised to see one narrow eyebrow go up. "Hmm. So that's your plan? A layered defense."

"It's Cas' plan."

The words were simple, but he felt Cas move closer, allowing a shoulder to brush his in thanks.

Death gave Cas a slight nod. "This plan might actually work. Yes, I can be selective at first." He raised a hand in admonishment. "However, I can't delay the majority of the souls for long."

"Understood," Cas said. "Even a little time to get them in position will help."

Death nodded and glanced at Benny and the other two monsters. "You're not going to give me any reason to be upset with you?"

Benny shook his head. "No, sir. I trust both of them."

Death didn't look entirely convinced, but he said nothing and turned to go. However, he turned back after just a few steps. "By the way, your brother and the demon have completed the first trial."

Relief washed through Dean. Sam was okay.

"I expect to get a call from them any time now. I think they will need my help for the next one. While I'd prefer not to be at their beck and call, I suspect I have little choice in this."

With that, he was gone, and Dean shot Cas a confused look. What had that meant?

Cas shrugged to indicate he had no idea, and the five of them made final preparations to get ready for the influx of souls.

***

Sam and Crowley arrived in Detroit in the middle of the night. Although Sam was well used to long drives, he was still exhausted and ready to find a motel and a bed to crash in. Crowley, damn him, wasn't nearly as tired and insisted on going through the routine of getting a free room in a decent hotel.

However, they were finally settled in a Marriott suite near the river, and Sam started to head for his room.

"Are we going to summon a Reaper tomorrow?" Crowley asked before Sam could escape.

Turning, the tall hunter said, "Yeah, that works. Seems like we should be able to get Death himself for this one. The whole thing is his idea."

Crowley shrugged. "I know a spell to summon him, if you want."

"Let me sleep on it, okay. I'm about to fall asleep on my feet."

The ex-demon made an ostentatious sniff. "Getting old, are you? You used to be able to go for days on a hunt."

Sam shook his head. "One, that was when I was younger. Two, I don't want to know how you know so much about when I was younger."

"Had my eye on you for a while, haven't I?"

"I don't even want to think about how dirty that sounds."

Crowley's low laugh followed him into the bedroom.

***

When Sam awoke, for a moment he had no idea where he was. Bunker? No, the bed didn't feel right. Cheap hotel room? No, the air didn't smell musty and foul.

He opened his eyes to the soulless but innocuous hotel decor, and he remembered. Right. Hunting with Crowley.

He slowly became aware of voices in the other room. Now he was wide awake, and he rolled off the bed, coming smoothly to his feet, pistol in his hand, the grip solid and reassuring in his palm.

He padded to the door and listened for a moment. With a sigh, he recognized both voices and padded back to his bed. He dropped the pistol and pulled on his jeans before heading into the other room.

Death and Crowley turned at his arrival.

"Thought you were going to sleep forever, luv."

"And I thought you were going to wait until morning before summoning Death." He glanced at the large picture window overlooking the city. Dawn was just a faint pink hint on the horizon.

Crowley shrugged. "Got bored, didn't I?"

Death tapped his cane on the floor and the frowned down at it, apparently displeased at the sound, muffled by the carpet. "I don't have all day to listen to your bickering. The demon says you need my help with the next quest."

Sam nodded. "Yes. We need a perfectly balanced soul. Crowley has found one, but we need someone to Reap it."

The frown hadn't left Death's face. "That's quite a demand. I'm not in the habit of Reaping souls before their time."

"Not like we have too many options, do we?" Crowley said. "You want those Gates open or not?"

Death sighed, his long, creased face somehow more glum than usual. "Who is it?"

Crowley handed over a scrap of paper with a name on it. Death looked at it for a long moment before sighing and pulling off his ring. "Fine," he said. "If that's what we need, I'll agree to it." Handing the ring to Crowley, who took it, expression puzzled, the Horseman continued, "But you're going to take responsibility for the soul."

"What?" Crowley asked, his voice a full octave higher than usual.

Sam answered. "He wants you to Reap the soul." The hunter looked at Death. "Because that worked so well the last time you gave someone your ring."

Death turned to leave. "You have six hours. That should be more than enough time."

He started to walk off but then turned, pulling something from his pocket. He handed it to Crowley, who looked at what appeared to be a small glass vial. “What’s this?” he asked.

“You need a soul for the spell, don’t you? It has to go somewhere.”

With that, he was gone.

Crowley turned to Sam, hands idly moving the vial from one to the other. "What did you mean about the last time he did this?"

Sam sighed and headed to his room to finish dressing. "I'll explain on the way."

***

No one was entirely happy with the state of preparedness, but even Cas had to admit it was as good as could be, at least until they had souls in place.

They were just in time because just then ten people wandered into their camp. Three were dressed in desert camouflage. Four were in police uniforms. One wore forest camouflage and the last two had the look of bikers, fat over rough slabs of muscle, tattoos and long hair and beards. All of them held identical expressions of confusion.

"Where the Hell are we?" one of the bikers asked.

Dean sighed, glanced at his four companions, and all of them stepped forward to start the explanations.

It took a while, and Dean wasn't sure they really got it, but finally, all of them were positioned near vulnerable points, homemade weapons in hand.

"I don't know, Cas," Dean said, his voice low. "Not sure they are up to it."

Cas gave him a small smile. "I'm confident they'll do fine when the fighting starts. They have the training." His voice trailed off. "Well, most of them do. Not sure about those two with the long beards."

Dean chuckled. "I'm worried the least about those two. They know how to handle themselves in a brawl, and I think that's what we'll be seeing."

Benny walked over. "Surely that's not all of them?"

"No," Dean answered. "Death said he'd let them through slowly at first."

Cas was looking over his shoulder. "Here come some more."

Dean squared his shoulders and prepared to go through orientation again.

This time they caught a bit of luck. One of the souls was a Hunter, and everyone decided she would be in charge of the explanations from now on.

They processed three more groups, and finally had about fifty souls, most of them capable of fighting, although the last group had contained a couple of children and several civilians.

As Cas showed the non-combatants how to make weapons, Bobby the werewolf came over. "Something's coming. Smells like vampire."

Dean overheard and nodded. "Now we find out if the plan works."

He put his fingers to his mouth and gave a sharp whistle, the signal they'd agreed on. Several answering whistles came back, and Dean nodded. "Guess we're as ready as we can be. Positions everyone."

Cas and Dean headed for their spot while Benny and his friends hustled to theirs. A few minutes later, Dean heard something moving through the brush. He motioned to Cas to cover left while he took right. Then he hefted his axe, the heavy weight of the weapon reminding him of that long year in Purgatory.

Before he could get too lost in nostalgia, a tall form, dressed like, of all things, a Puritan straight from Colonial times, slipped into the clearing. His gait was smooth, and Dean could see the white glint of fangs. He tightened his grip on his axe and spared a quick glance to Cas, who was standing at relaxed attention, angel blade ready.

The vampire took a couple of steps toward the warded barrier and then stopped suddenly, forward motion arrested by nothing. Dean tensed. Would it hold?

The vampire paced back and forth, hands outstretched, apparently testing the strength of the ward. After a few minutes, he lifted his head, as if testing the air. He stood there, silhouetted by the dim light coming through the trees.

A moment later, he turned to go back the way he'd come.

When he was out of sight, Dean let himself relax a bit. Cas was nodding. "It held."

"Yeah, but he was just one. What about when they figure out to band together? If they systematically test each point of the wards, they'll find the gaps eventually."

"True, and by then we'll have reinforcements."

Dean hoped he was right.

***

"So, tell me about this 'other time.’" Crowley said as they packed up.

Sam sighed as he answered. "Death gave Dean his ring a while back."

Crowley snorted. "Say no more. I can imagine how well that went."

The tall hunter nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. Here's hoping you can do a better job."

"Than your brother? Standing on my head."

They headed out of the hotel, and, against his better judgment, Sam let the ex-demon drive while he navigated.

“What was that address again?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

“Waterwheel Road. It’s in Northville Township.” Crowley had an oddly nostalgic look on his face. Sam hated to ask, but curiosity got the better of him.

“You have good memories of the place, or something?”

Crowley shook himself. “Oh, nothing much. Used to be a psychiatric hospital there. Closed down about ten years ago. Good times.”

Sam decided he really didn’t want to know more, and they spent the rest of the drive in silence.

It took them almost half an hour to get there. Sam couldn’t help but compare Crowley’s driving to Dean’s. For a demon, he certainly did obey traffic laws. Something in his attitude must have communicated itself to Crowley because he said, “Figure if I’m going to turn over a new leaf and all, I might as well start with driving properly.”

“Makes sense,” was all Sam said, but he was smiling to himself.

“Not going to use that brother of yours as a role model.”

There wasn’t anything Sam could say to that, so he didn’t even try.

Finally, they pulled into a nice suburban community with large single-family houses. Every house had a perfectly maintained lawn, and Sam noticed most of them had free standing basketball hoops in their driveways.

“Everyone here planning to try out for the Pistons?” Crowley asked, exasperation in his voice.

“They could use the help. They’ve had a bad couple of years.”

Crowley turned to look, eyebrow raised. “If you have time to actually follow basketball, then I haven’t been doing my job properly.”

“If you’d been doing your job properly, you wouldn’t be here right now, would you?”

“Point taken.” He parked the car on the street, across from one of the few houses without a hoop. The yard was well landscaped and recently mown with a line of flowers marching from the front door to the edge of the house.

They sat in the Impala for a moment, listening to the click of the cooling engine. “So, what’s the plan?” Crowley finally asked.

Sam nodded. “I’ve been giving that some thought on the drive here, actually. I think we tell the guy the truth and appeal to his good nature.”

Crowley snorted. “Oh, sure. Because that’s totally going to work.”

Sam held up his hands. “And why wouldn’t it? I mean the whole point is that this guy’s completely in balance. He shouldn’t have anything unfinished. If anyone would be okay with dying, even prematurely, it would be someone like him.”

Crowley was shaking his head. “I can’t see this ending well.”

“There’s one more thing.”

“Yeah?” The demon’s voice held only doubt.

The tall hunter gave him a lopsided grin and tossed back his long hair. “Yeah. Am I misremembering, or didn’t you tell me you’re a master salesman? If anyone can sell this, it’d be you.”

Suddenly Crowley’s expression changed, and Sam thought he was seriously thinking about it. A moment later, the older man nodded. “You’re right. Maybe I can sell this thing.”

“Shall we get on it then?”

Crowley opened his door and got out, starting for the door, not even waiting for Sam to catch up.

***

As Dean had suspected, it didn’t take long for more monsters to show up. So far, they’d been keeping ahead of the attacks. Over the last several hours, fifty more people had arrived, few of them with combat experience. However, as soon as they’d had the situation explained to them, they had all been willing to help in any way they could. Two teachers and a day care provider pulled all the children aside and kept them occupied. A former engineer proved to be a capable weapon smith, and Dean was happy to let him make axes and clubs.

One former drill sergeant was a particularly welcome arrival, and Cas had set him to giving basic instruction to the able-bodied but non-combat trained among them.

The attacks, when they came, were scattered, with often one, but never more than three, monsters attacking at a time. Benny and Bobby patrolled their borders, and they had been assigned a teenager each to act as runners when an attack showed up. The runners had been able to get word back to the main force with a location, and each time, the monsters had been met and pushed back.

All in all, things were going well. Which meant Dean wasn’t a bit surprised when all Hell finally broke loose.

Jim, the teen assigned to Benny, came running into camp, screaming for Dean and Cas.

The former angel had been reinforcing a ward which had been damaged in the last attack, and Dean had been helping with basic combat training. Both came running at Jim’s yell.

The teen, a lanky youth, just under six feet, thin as a rail and with an untidy mop of dark hair which always fell in his eyes, skidded into camp, almost digging a trench with his once-fancy name brand sneakers.

His eyes darted left and then right, and his shoulders relaxed slightly when he saw Dean.

“What’s happening?” Dean asked as Cas came charging back into camp, skidding to a halt with considerably more grace than the young man.

Jim panted for a moment, leaning over to catch his breath, before answering. Finally, he said, “Benny says there’s a bunch of monsters coming. He said he can smell them. Maybe twenty. Possibly more. And they’re close. No more than two miles away.”

“Did he say what kind they were?” Cas asked, his brows furrowed. Dean knew the expression. He was already planning strategy.

“Vampires, werewolves and a couple of wendigo, he thought.”

“That’s bad,” Dean said, looking over the camp. They had fewer than twenty people with actual combat or police training. Everyone else was willing, but a force that size would tear through them, assuming the monsters could get past the wards.

However, Cas was nodding. “It’ll be tough, but we can do this.” He knelt, picked up a stick and started drawing. Without looking up from his work, he said, “Jim, gather everyone. There’s not much time to cover this.”

Dean knelt beside his friend and looked over his drawing. A moment later, he was nodding. This just might work.

***

Crowley knocked on the door, surprised by the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a “human” feeling. Demons had emotions, of course, and they could feel fear, but demon emotions were, in their own way, purer than human emotions and were rarely reflected in their meat suits. If he’d had any doubts of the changes Sam had caused in him, the fluttering feeling in his stomach went a long way toward dispelling them.

“You okay?” Sam asked, just as footsteps approached the door.

“I’m fine. Don’t distract me.” He took a deep breath and prepared himself. He was going to need every trick he’d ever learned in his centuries as a Crossroads demon to pull this off.

The door opened, revealing a middle-aged man of completely average size. He was neither ugly nor handsome. His graying hair was cut in a forgettable style, and his clothes were simple and functional. He looked first at Sam then at Crowley and nodded. “Wondered when you were going to show up.”

Crowley couldn’t restrain his surprised blink. “What?”

The man opened the door wide and made a motion to usher them inside. “I said I wondered when you were going to show up.”

In a daze, Crowley followed the man inside. He felt Sam a step behind him, and he knew the hunter was also surprised.

They went to a small sitting room just a few paces beyond the door, and the man waved them to sit. “So, you’re here to reap my soul.” He looked Crowley up and down, a slight frown on his face. “I expected Death to be, I don’t know, taller.” He looked at Sam. “And I didn’t expect him to have a sidekick either.”

Crowley suppressed a smile at the thought of Sam being his “sidekick.” “I’m not actually Death.” He glanced at Sam. “Fine by me if you want to call him my sidekick though.”

Sam’s glare promised harsh words later, but he said nothing.

“What are you then?”

Crowley didn’t answer, instead asking, “What’s your name, anyway?”

The man frowned. “You’re here to take my soul, and you don’t even know my name?”

Crowley shrugged. “They gave me details, like your address, but, yeah, forgot to give me your name.”

“Bob,” the man said.

Oh course. A bland name to match his balanced soul.

“What are you, if you’re not Death?” Bob asked again.

It was a fair question, and for a moment, Crowley wasn’t certain how to answer it. Human? King of Hell? Demon? None of the above? All of the above?

Finally, he settled for, “I used to be a demon.”

“Didn’t think that was something you ‘used to be,’” Bob said.

“Usually isn’t. Appears I’m a special case.” He wanted to add something about just getting on with it, but, even though the man appeared to have expected him, Crowley knew better than to rush negotiations. Of course, he usually knew what he was negotiating before he started.

The man was looking him up and down. Then he turned his attention to Sam. “Did you used to be a demon too?”

Sam shook his head. Crowley suppressed a smile. Considering the hunter’s history, that was hardly an honest answer.

“I’m a hunter. I hunt demons and other monsters.”

“Huh. So that explains why you’re with him?”

“Not exactly,” Sam said. “It’s a long story.”

“And we don’t have a lot of time, Bob. You were obviously expecting us, so what’s with that?”

Bob raised an eyebrow. “Kids these days. Always in a hurry.”

Crowley held in him impulse to tell Bob exactly how old he was. Kid indeed. It didn’t help that he could sense Sam holding back a laugh.

He waited, letting silence ask the question again.

After a moment, Bob sighed and said, “You’re not exactly the first, well, odd person I’ve met. A couple of years ago, some woman stopped me on the street and said my soul was going to be important and that I’d better get my affairs in order. She said I’d know when it was time, and when you two showed up, I figured this was it.”

“You always assume strangers are showing up to kill you?” Crowley asked. “What if we’d been door-to-door salesmen?”

Bob shrugged. “You don’t have that look.” He frowned and looked them over again. “You do sort of look like you’re trying to dress like FBI agents, though.” He looked at Sam. “It’d work better if you cut your hair, boy.”

Sam said nothing, but his pained expression made his feelings clear.

Bob went on. “Anyway, I believed her and did as she’d suggested. I quit my job, did all those things I’d been wanting to do all my life, and I’ve been here, reading books, waiting for you to show up. Now you do.”

Before Crowley could say anything, Sam asked, “And you’re okay with this?”

Bob moved his hand in a yes/no gesture. “Well, obviously, I’d rather live, but I’ve finished my bucket list, and, if it’s time to go, and I can do some good on my way out--” He shrugged. “--then I guess that’s enough for any man. What exactly will my death make happen? Or not happen?”

Sam answered him with a question. “Been keeping up with the news lately?”

Bob nodded. “Sure. What in particular?”

“All those reports of people not dying when they should?”

“Yeah. What of it?” His eyes widened. “You mean that’s not just a load of liberal hooey?”

Great, Crowley thought. A Tea Party Republican. In what universe was that considered balanced?

“Not at all, sir,” Sam said. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but the Gates of Heaven have been closed off, and none of the good souls can go there. Death doesn’t want to reap anyone if there’s no place for them to go, so those people are living on way past when they should have died.”

Bob frowned. “And how does my soul fit into this?”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to answer. “There’s a spell to open the Gate again, and one of the ingredients is a soul perfectly in balance.”

“Which is mine?”

“Which is yours,” Crowley said in agreement.

The man appeared to think it over for a moment. “If Heaven’s closed for business, what happens to my soul? Where do I go?”

Crowley took out the vial Death had given him. “Right here. Presumably when we finish the spell, you’ll move on up.”

“Presumably?”

Crowley shrugged. “Not many guarantees in this line of work.”

Bob sighed and then nodded. “All right, then. Time’s a wasting. Let’s get this over with.”

Crowley took out Death’s ring and turned it over in his hands.

“Do you know how to do it?” Sam asked.

Crowley nodded. “I’ve got the basic idea, yes.” He turned to Bob. “Any last requests or errands or anything?”

Bob started to shake his head but then he paused and nodded. “Actually, yes. Is it okay if I call my daughter one last time?”

Crowley shrugged. “Go ahead. I think we’ve got time for that.”

Bob got up, picked up his phone from an end table and headed for the back of the house. Crowley could hear his voice, faintly.

“You’re getting more human by the day,” Sam said, his voice casual.

“Don’t insult me,” Crowley said, but even he knew his heart wasn’t in it. Sam wasn’t wrong, and he honestly didn’t know how to feel about that.

A few minutes later, Bob came back, looked Crowley straight in the eye and said, “All right. Now I’m ready.” He paused and then added. “You’ll call someone about my body, right. I don’t want my daughter to come by and find me.”

“We’ll place an anonymous call to the police,” Sam assured him.

“Okay. Where do you want me?”

“Just lie down on the couch,” Crowley said.

Bob did so and closed his eyes.

Crowley lifted the ring, chanted a few words in something cryptic sounding, and Bob’s body stiffened, back arching into the couch. A white light tinged with luminescent gray left his body and was drawn to the vial. As soon as it was all inside, Crowley stoppered it and placed it in an inside pocket of his jacket.

“That’s it?” Sam asked.

“That’s it.”

Crowley got up and stood over the body for a moment, surprised at how much sympathy and gratitude he felt for the man. Sam said nothing, and a minute or so later, they both left the house.

Two components down. One to go. Crowley wondered what it was and how difficult it would be to obtain.

***

It was tough, but Castiel’s plan was working. He’d noted the weakest points and stiffened the defenses there with himself, Dean and Benny. He hadn’t trusted Bobby and Rashid with the humans, but he’d sent them to deal with the wendigo. In Purgatory, no one allied with wendigo, so he hadn’t worried about the other two monsters betraying them.

It has all started well enough. A vampire tested the defenses near Cas, and one of the bikers working with him had stumbled at the wrong moment, but Cas had been able to cut off his head before the monster had done more than drool on the human.

After that, the bikers had been more careful, and Cas had realized Dean was right. The big men knew how to handle themselves in a brawl.

Then things got complicated. Jim came dashing over to Cas’ position, yelling that several werewolves had broken through Deans position and had already killed several humans.

Cas glanced at Jim and then at the three vampires trying to break through their own position. The biker Cas had saved beheaded a vampire with his massive stone blade and then nodded at Cas. “We got this, man. You head where you’re needed.”

Cas hesitated, but Jim picked up a big branch and said, “Go, man. Dean needs you.”

That was enough to get Cas moving.

When he got to Dean’s position, he saw it was as dire as Jim had indicated. Several werewolves had broken through the warding. One was savaging a defender, shaking the man back and forth the way a terrier would kill a rat. Two more were threatening Dean and another man, the two back to back, fighting furiously to keep the werewolves at bay.

Cas hefted his blade and moved in. He got the monster’s attention by coming in low and hamstringing it. The werewolf howled in pain and turned, badly injured but still able to fight. Cas deftly avoided its awkward charge and smoothly impaled it.

He turned from his kill to aid Dean but realized his aid was not needed. Dean was on his knee, grimacing in pain, but he was still able to fight, and he axed his werewolf through one leg. The human he had been fighting with—Cas now recognized him as a former Marine, crushed the monster’s skull with his heavy stone mallet.

That battle seemed to dampen the enthusiasm of the remaining monsters, and the defenders drove them off with minimal additional casualties.

When it was all over, Cas moved around the camp, checking on everyone. They had lost five, three of them from Dean’s position and two from Benny’s. Cas allowed himself a moment of amusement that all the bikers had survived.

Dean came trotting through the camp, eyes darting until he saw Cas. The hunter slowed, a hesitant smile crossing his face. “Glad to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Dean.”

Benny came up to them, stride slow and confident, axe slung casually over one shoulder. “That could have been worse. We could have lost them all.”

Cas nodded. “Yes. And your friends fought admirably.”

“Told you we could trust them.”

Dean’s eyes were sweeping the camp in what Cas assumed was a head count. “We lost five.”

Dean’s expression hardened. “That’s too many. One is too many.” He glanced out into the woods. “I’m thinking the next attack will be even rougher.”

A deep voice sounded behind them. “That may be, but they will need to manage without you.”

Cas whirled, angel blade half raised, and saw Death leaning on his cane, just a few feet away. He hated how silently the ancient one could move.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

“You’re needed back topside. Your brother and the demon have obtained two of the required ingredients of the spell. The last one will be trickier.”

“You mean you know what they are?” Cas asked at the same time Dean said, “I knew my brother would rock it.”

Death glanced at both of them, eyes full of tolerant amusement. “Of course, I know what they are.”

“Then why didn’t you say something? Why make Kevin do the translation?”

Dean was nodding his agreement with the question.

“Because that isn’t how it works. Now be quick. We need to get back.”

Dean made a point of turning to Benny, who had been standing a few feet away, listening. “You be all right here, buddy?”

The vampire nodded. “We’ll be fine.” He glanced at Death before adding, “Could use a few more souls, though.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Death’s tone was dry.

Dean stepped over to Benny and enfolded him in a hug. Cas worked at swallowing the sudden surge of jealousy that washed over him. He didn’t have long, though, because as soon as Dean and Benny parted, the vampire came over to give him a hug too.

“Take good care of him, you hear?” Benny said, in a voice pitched so that only angel and vampire ears could hear. Well, and probably Death, but Cas doubted he’d say anything.

“I will,” he said in return, voice pitched just as low.

They broke apart, and Benny stepped back. “Come back again, if you can.”

Dean snorted. “Don’t take this the wrong way, brother, but I’d rather we didn’t have to.”

Benny grinned back, and Death rolled his eyes. “If you are quite done?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, whatever. Take us back then.”

Death made a gesture, and Purgatory faded away, to be replaced with the sights, sounds and smells of a big city.

***

As Crowley and Sam walked back to the Impala from Bob’s house, Sam’s phone rang. He looked at the display. “Kevin,” he said. “Maybe he’s got the last trial.”

“Hope so. Guessing we are running out of time.”

Sam answered. “What’s up, Kevin?”

“I’ve got the last trial. And you’re not going to like it.”

Sam pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Crowley, who nodded and headed for the driver’s side. “Hang on a sec, Kevin. Let me get into the car and put you on speaker.”

Sam climbed in the passenger side and put the phone down on his leg, tapping the speaker icon with one long finger. “Okay, go.”

“Are Dean and Cas back from Purgatory yet?” Kevin asked, his voice tinny.

“Not yet.”

“Well, too bad. This one is going to be tough.”

“What is it?”

“Assuming I’ve translated correctly, and I really wish someone could check me on this one, you need a demon to renounce his nature and turn good.”

Sam’s head shot to the left to look at Crowley, whose hands were slipping from the wheel. The hunter grabbed the wheel and steadied the car before it could drive off the road. Crowley shook himself and took back control of the car.

“You’re sure about that?” Crowley asked.

“As sure as I can be,” Kevin answered, his voice steady.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” was Crowley's only response.

Sam didn't trust the mild tone in his companion's voice, but he ignored it for the moment. “Interesting is one word for it,” Sam said in agreement. “Thanks, Kevin. Let us know if you turn up anything else that might be helpful.”

“Will do.” And with that he hung up.

Sam turned to Crowley. "You're thinking that this is lots more than just 'interesting.'"

"Of course." There was no inflection in his voice.

"Come on. Talk to me."

"And how well does that work when you say it to Dean?"

"Pretty much like crap, but you're not Dean."

"No, I'm not."

Sam wasn't certain if thoughtful was better or worse than no inflection.

He knew all too well how damned awkward this was for Crowley, but he had to say something. “You were kind of thinking along those lines anyway. This doesn’t really have to change anything.”

As soon as he spoke, he knew from the look on Crowley’s face that he had said exactly the wrong thing. The ex-demon yanked the wheel hard, forcing the Impala to the side of the road. Then he vanished.

Sam sat in the passenger side of the car and just looked at where Crowley had been. “Damn,” was all he could think to say in response.

***

Dean glanced quickly around. Tall buildings. A number of cars on the street but hardly a typical urban rush hour. No people within a block or two, which was handy considering he was pretty sure they had just popped in out of thin air. Death was nowhere to be seen.

He was pretty sure they were in a mid-Western city, but he couldn’t place it any closer than that. “Any idea where we are?” he asked Cas.

Cas nodded. “Detroit. Slightly to the west of downtown.”

Right. Angel direction sense.

“Any idea why we are in Detroit instead of, say, near the bunker?”

Before Cas could reply, a pedestrian hurried up to them. “Where did you guys come from? I swear there was no one here a minute ago?”

Awkward, but Dean had been dealing with worse since he was a kid, and it took him less than a minute to send the young man on his way.

“Let’s get off the main street,” he said, motioning Cas in the direction of what looked like a small park nearby.

Finding a bench, he sat down and took out his phone. Cas settled himself, near enough that their shoulders were just touching. Dean found it oddly grounding as he speed-dialed Sam.

His brother picked up on the second ring. “Dean? You’re back? Everything work out? Cas okay?”

“Yes, yes and yes, Sammy. What about you? When Death showed up to beam us back here, he said you’d found two ingredients but that the last one would be tricky. What did Kevin say it was?”

There was a suspiciously long pause.

“Sam?”

“Where are you guys?” his brother finally asked.

“Downtown Detroit. Where are you?”

“Not too far away. Can you give me a cross street, and I’ll come by to pick you up?”

“Sam. What are you not telling me?”

Another long pause. Finally, Sam said, “The last trial involves a demon renouncing his nature and turning good.”

Dean smiled. Finally, a break. “That’s great, Sam. You said Crowley was thinking about going straight. He’s our guy. This one’ll be easy.”

“Not so much.”

“What?”

“Crowley’s gone.”

Dean shook his head, certain he must have heard wrong. “What do you mean gone?”

“I mean gone. Look, just give me that cross street, I’ll pick you up and explain.”

Dean looked around for a street sign and read off the names.

“Yeah, that’s not far. Give me like 10 minutes, and I’ll be there.” He hung up, leaving Dean sitting in confusion.

“That did not sound like it went well,” Cas said. “What’s the final trial?”

“A demon turning good. And our resident ex-demon is gone.”

Neither of them knew what to say after that, and they waited for Sam to come pick them up, accompanied by no more than dark thoughts. Even Cas’ shoulder didn’t feel grounding anymore.

***

It took more than ten minutes because of a traffic jam, but Sam finally arrived where Dean and Cas were waiting. Dean looked pissed, which wasn’t a surprise, but Sam was well used to his brother’s moods.

What he wasn’t used to was the familiar way Dean and Cas were leaning against each other, shoulders touching companionably, as they sat together on a park bench. Huh. He’d have to ask about that once his brother calmed down.

Sam honked the horn, and both Dean and Cas whirled. Dean immediately stood up and stalked over to the car, motioning for Sam to get out.

Sam did so, tossing the Impala keys to Dean without being asked.

“What did you mean by ‘Crowley’s gone?’ were the first words out of his brother’s mouth. Cas was walking next to the older Winchester, his gait loose and dangerous.

“Let’s get out of Detroit. I’ll explain while you drive.”

Cas nodded, his expression still grim, but he started for the back of the car. He looked startled when Dean reached out to grab his arm.

“Nope, Cas. You ride shotgun. You’ve earned it.”

An expression of pleased wonder passed across the former angel’s face, and he smiled as he reversed direction and got in the front passenger seat.

Sam stifled a sigh as he folded his tall form into the back seat.

Dean got into the car and made a point of looking Baby over, as if he expected Sam would have installed another iPod in his absence.

Apparently satisfied, he started the car and pulled away from the curb, expressing his anger in a screech of tires.

“Sam? Explanation?”

Cas half-turned in his seat to look at the younger Winchester.

Sam explained about the two trials and how Crowley had performed his parts admirably. Cas raised an eyebrow when he heard about Death lending the ex-demon his ring but said nothing.

Dean loudly snorted at that bit. “You’d think he’d have learned his lesson last time.”

Sam couldn’t resist. “I don’t know. Crowley seemed to do a good job with it.”

Dean shook his head but said nothing.

“When did he disappear?” Cas asked.

“Right after Kevin called and told us about the final trial.”

“Coward,” Dean said with a growl. “Gives up just as things get tough.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it, Dean.”

“What then?”

Sam glanced out the window for a moment, rural Michigan passing rapidly under the steady hum of the Impala’s engine. He wasn’t quite sure how to put it or if he could convince the others of what he sensed about Crowley’s motives.

“I don’t think he was afraid. He went up against the dragon with no hesitation. He’s got guts enough when he needs them. I think it’s something else.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, his tone genuinely curious.

“Crowley and I talked on the drive here. It seems like I took him far enough down the redemption road in the church that he doesn’t feel like he can go back. But he doesn’t want to finish the ritual. He says that would be too easy. I think he really wants to change, and he wants it to be hard. However, it was one thing to talk about it in the abstract. Now it’s real. Now something depends on it. I think Crowley just needs some time to work it through.”

“Why would he care about stuff depending on it?” Dean asked. “If Heaven stays closed, that’s good for him, right? I mean, as much as he may be flirting with the idea of renouncing evil, he’s been the King of Hell for a long time now. Anything that sends more souls that way should be a-okay with him, right?”

Cas answered before Sam could. The angel’s voice was quiet and measured. “If he’s seriously considering renouncing evil, and I’m inclined to trust Sam’s impressions of that, then Crowley definitely wants Heaven opened.”

Sam felt an unexpected warmth go through him at Cas’ unexpected vote of confidence. “Exactly. There’s no guarantee that this act will balance the scales enough to get him into Heaven, but he’s got to want someplace for his soul to go when he finally dies. Right now, with the Gates closed, Hell is about the only place he can go. He’s weakened. He’s probably not functionally immortal anymore. He has to make some choice, or right now Hell is his only option. And as he is now, Hell won’t be a pretty place for him.”

Dean didn’t say anything for several moments, and Sam knew his brother well enough to give him time and space to work things out. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I can see all that. I’m not saying that I trust Crowley even a little bit, but I can see your point. However, assuming you’re wrong, that still leaves us without a handy demon who is ready to go light side.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I’m aware of that. Ever since Crowley vanished, I’ve been trying to figure something out, and I haven’t been able to come up with anything. I’m glad you two were able to buy us some time, but I can’t imagine we have long.”

“Let’s get back to the bunker, get some sleep and think about it in the morning,” Dean said. “Not much we can do about it now anyway.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Cas said.

“I’m for that,” Sam agreed. “I think I’ll stretch out back here. It’s been a long couple of days driving.”

“Go ahead and crash,” Dean said. “I’m good for a couple of states at least.”

Sam made himself as comfortable as he could in the back seat and was out in moments.

***

When Sam woke up, it was dark. He stretched and yawned before sitting up.

“Wondered when you were going to wake up,” Dean said, his voice quiet.

When Sam was fully upright and able to see the front seat, he almost rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still asleep.

Cas was leaning against Dean, snoring quietly. Dean had his arm around the ex-angel, whose head was pillowed on the older Winchester’s shoulder.

“Dean?” Sam asked.

“Keep your voice down. He hasn’t slept properly since this whole thing started.” Dean paused a moment and then added, “Yeah, I know how this looks.”

Sam chuckled softly. “Guess you guys had a chance to talk.” He kept his own voice pitched low.

Dean gave a soft snort. “Yeah. Benny kind of read us both the riot act.”

“Glad you listened to someone.”

Dean raised his head to look at Sam in the rear-view mirror. “You’re really okay with it?”

Sam nodded. “Sure. Like I said earlier, it’s not really a surprise that you are attracted to guys. And I like Cas. He’s good for you. And I think you’re good for him.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Just keep the wild sex down enough that I can’t hear it, okay.”

Dean laughed softly. “I make no promises, Sammy. Someone needs to show you how it’s done.”

“Thanks, but I figured things out a long time ago without your help.”

Just then Cas stirred and sat up. “I think I slept?”

Dean ruffled the ex-angel’s hair, turning messy bed head into an adorable abomination. “Looks like it. How do you feel?”

“Uh, pretty good actually.”

“Yeah, getting enough sleep will do that to you.” Dean suddenly yawned.

Sam spoke up. “Looks like someone else needs more sleep. I’m good now. If you want me to take over the driving for a bit, just say so.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’m good with that. I’ll pull off at the next exit, grab some snacks and then turn it over to you.”

***

Cas was vaguely bemused when they pulled over at a gas station and he actually felt hungry enough to eat. Dean convinced him that hot dogs were basically the perfect food, and after eating two, he was inclined to agree.

He discovered that the comfort of a full stomach made even the trip to the restroom more bearable. He was quite certain that he wasn’t ever going to enjoy being human, but he was learning that it did have a few advantages.

Like the unexpectedly pleasant sensation he got in the pit of his stomach when Dean smiled at him for eating hot dogs. Or when Dean had pulled him over to his side of the car. He’d known the Hunter well enough to assume he’d be reserved, even after admitting that he felt something for Cas.

He got another surprise when they got back to the Impala and Sam climbed into the front seat to drive. Cas had been uncertain about where to sit, and Dean had casually said, “Sit back here with me, Cas.”

He’d climbed into the back seat, and it had taken his many centuries of experience to keep the surprise off his face when Dean had stretched out, his head cradled in Cas’ lap. He’d fallen asleep just seconds after lying down.

He sat as still as he could, not wanting to disturb his friend. Sam must have sensed his confusion because, just a few miles down the road, the younger Winchester glanced in the rear-view mirror and said, “It’s okay, Cas. Dean’s out for the count. Don’t feel like you can’t move to get more comfortable.”

Cas carefully eased Dean’s head, which had been cutting off circulation in one leg.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure, Cas. What’s up?” Sam’s voice was relaxed and easy.

“I am not always familiar with human customs, but I am aware that same sex relationships are not always looked upon with favor.”

Sam laughed. “I’m fine with it. Really. Dean and I already had this conversation. It’s not like I hadn’t figured out you two were stupid gone about each other years ago.”

Cas wasn’t sure what to think about that. He hadn’t been certain how he felt until he fell. He’d considered Dean to be a friend for a long time, and he’d always felt that “friendship” was too mild a word for what he felt, but he hadn’t been sure what to call it. In hindsight, he should have made the connection between Daphne’s feelings for him and his own feelings for Dean, but since he had felt so little for Daphne, he supposed it was understandable that he hadn’t made the connection until now.

Which led to his next question. “Dean is usually so reserved about emotions.” He waved down at the man in his lap. “This seems out of character for him.” He almost hated to ask it, certain that Sam would agree that it was an aberration, but he decided he’d rather know.

Cas heard the smile in Sam’s voice when he answered. “I can see where you’d think that, but, really, it’s not.” The other man paused for a moment before continuing. “You see, the thing you need to know about Dean is that he might not talk about stuff, but he feels it. I think sometimes that he doesn’t talk because he feels things too strongly, and he doesn’t always know how to express it.”

Cas nodded. That matched what he’d seen of Dean.

Sam went on. “He can’t talk about stuff, but he’ll show it. I got pretty mad at him sometimes when we were kids because he could be the typical aggravating older brother, but when it really counted, he was there for me with whatever I needed. Whether it was stealing medicine when I was sick to the Christmas where he made sure I had presents, even though he actually stole girl toys by accident.”

Cas thought a long moment before saying, “I know about that incident.”

He saw Sam glance at him in the rearview mirror, his expression curious. “You mean he told you about it?”

Cas shook his head. “No. I mean that I watched it.”

“You watched Dean when he was a kid?” Sam’s voice was incredulous.

“Of course. He has always been the Righteous Man, even as a child. He wasn’t my charge at that time, but many of the angels in my garrison watched him from time to time.”

“From time to time means you didn’t watch everything, right?”

Cas smiled to himself, hearing the restrained panic in Sam’s voice. “Not everything, no. Just bits and pieces. I always watched on Christmas, though.”

He could almost see Sam going back in his memory to check if anything truly embarrassing had happened on a Christmas.

“I didn’t watch anything that seemed too private, Sam,” Cas assured him. “Just snippets here and there, to try to figure out what he was like. And to watch him grow up. It’s hard to resist watching Prophecy in action.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, prophecy in action. I assure you he did plenty of embarrassing stuff.”

Cas glanced down at the sleeping figure in his lap. He decided it would be wise to refrain from mentioning all the things he had watched, some of which he hadn’t understood until becoming human. Some of the things he still didn’t understand, but he supposed there was time.

“If you watched him, it shouldn’t surprise you that when Dean loves, he does it with everything he has. He’s very physical in his affections, when he’s in the right mood. Thought you should know that, if you hadn’t figured it out.”

Cas allowed himself to pull out memories of Dean for review. Finally, he said, “Perhaps I should have known this about Dean. However, there are such stark differences between angels and humans that I didn’t always have the context to interpret what I was seeing. Love is experienced very differently between angels and humans.”

“How so?” Sam asked.

“With angels, love is something that is--” Cas paused, looking for the right words. “Programmed in, is I think the closest way to describe it. Love for humanity and all of God’s creations is a part of us. We receive it when we are created, and we have no choice in whether or how we experience it.”

Sam appeared to be thinking about that. Finally, he said, “That doesn’t sound like love to me.”

Cas shrugged. “I can’t say you are wrong. Perhaps angels use the wrong word. Human language is…imprecise.” He mentally scanned through the many languages he knew. “Perhaps devotion is a better word. Attachment to a cause is one definition, is it not?”

“Yes.”

Cas nodded. “Then that is it. Devotion. Humanity was a cause we were attached to. It was our duty to watch and guard.” He sighed. “But love as I now understand it is quite different. I’m not certain how to describe it, much less how to experience it.”

Sam hastily said, “And that’s all the farther we need to take that part of this conversation, Cas. It’s not appropriate to go too deep into discussion of how you want to express your emotions for my brother. Just don’t be too surprised by anything Dean does, now that he’s gotten to the point of admitting it to himself.” His voice suddenly grew fond. “Welcome to the very small club of people my brother loves. It’s not a bad place to be, trust me.”

“Although Dean does not always behave rationally under those circumstances. Case in point. How he ended up in Hell to be rescued in the first place.”

Cas could see Sam’s expression grow hard in the mirror. “True. But according to your Prophecy, wasn’t that pre-ordained or something?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Any other prophecies about Dean that we should know about?”

Cas couldn’t help running his hands possessively through Dean’s hair. “Not that I’m aware of. And, I promise you this, Sam. Even without my powers, I would still die to protect him.”

“Let’s hope you don’t have to,” Sam said, his voice quiet. “We all know what happens then.”

There wasn’t much to say after that, and the miles flew by in silence, punctuated by the hum of the Impala’s tires on asphalt.

***

Dean slept most of the remainder of the trip back to the bunker. With less than an hour to go, he yawned, stretched and started to sit up. Realizing he was in Cas’ lap, he stayed where he was for a moment, enjoying the warmth under his head. It had been a long time since he’d awoken next to someone.

“Hey,” Cas said.

Dean felt warm, solid hands gently stroking through his hair. It felt good, and he wanted to sit up and kiss Cas, but the presence of his brother in the driver’s seat made him rethink that. “Hey, yourself. How long was I out?” He kept his voice low, wanting to retain the illusion of privacy for a little longer.

“Almost eight hours. We are less than an hour out.”

Dean finally sat up, suddenly aware of his bladder now that he knew how long it had been since the last pit stop.

“Hey, Dean,” came his brother’s voice from the front seat. From his tone, one would have thought there was nothing even slightly unusual about his brother sleeping in another guy’s lap. Dean thought it would still be a while before it became normal to him.

“Did I miss anything?”

“Not at all. I was going to fill Cas in on the embarrassing things you did as a kid, but then he mentioned that he basically watched your entire childhood, so that conversational topic pretty much died.”

“What?” Dean said, leaning away from Cas. “You did what?”

Cas was giving him a shy grin. “Sam exaggerates a bit. I did watch some of your life before I rescued you from Hell. Most of the angels in my garrison did.”

Dean shook his head, not quite believing what he was hearing. “Angels were watching me?”

“Didn’t Mom always say that angels were watching over you?” Sam asked, mischief in his voice.

“Yeah, but I always thought that was supposed to be a feel-good story. Then I found out that angels are basically dicks. Kind of changes things.” He shot Cas a sharp look. “And why, exactly?”

“You are the Righteous Man, Dean.” Cas’ voice was even and as earnest as always, but Dean was convinced he saw a gleam deep in the ex-angel’s eyes.

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. “We’ll discuss this later. For now, I need a pit stop.”

Sam pulled off at the next gas station, and after taking care of business, Dean finished the drive to the bunker. Bumping up the gravel road, he asked, “So let’s see if Kevin has anything useful for us, and we’ll figure out what our next steps are. Sound like a plan?”

“I need to crash for a few hours before I’ll be of any use to you,” Sam said, speaking around a huge yawn.

“I could use some sleep too, Dean,” Cas said.

Dean glanced back and forth between them. “End of the world here, and you both want to sleep?” His stern expression slid into a smile, and he added, “Yeah, okay. You two get some shut eye, and I’ll hit the books, see if there is any lore that might help us.”

On their way into the bunker, Dean slung a casual arm around Cas. Sam gave him a quick grin and a wink. Cas just leaned into his touch and gave a small, contented-sounding sigh.

“Hey, Kevin,” Dean yelled when they entered. “Got anything for us?”

Kevin’s head appeared around the door jamb to his room. “And hello to you too, Dean.” His eyes fell on Dean’s arm around Cas’ waist, and he shook his head. “Seriously, you two pick now to finally get a clue. Good thing your bedroom in well down the hall from mine.”

Cas cocked his head. “My bedroom is right next to yours. Why is it good that Dean’s is so far away?”

Dean gave him a quick squeeze. “I’ll explain later. You go sleep now. You’ll need your strength later.”

Cas nodded and started for his room. “That’s true. If Crowley doesn’t return, we will need an alternate plan.”

Kevin walked over to Dean and said, in a whisper. “He’s not really that clueless, is he?”

Dean grinned and shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m thinking it will be fun to find out.”

Sam groaned. “I so did not need that visual. On that note, I’m heading for bed. You all can fill me in when I’m awake enough to remember what you said.”

Dean watched Sam go down the hall toward his bedroom before turning to Kevin. “So, anything new?”

The prophet shook his head. “No. Just the details of the final trial. There’s not much else on that tablet.”

“Darn. I was hoping for something brilliant that would solve all our problems.” Dean took a good look at Kevin. “Seriously. When did you last eat or sleep?”

Kevin shrugged. “I kind of lost track.”

“Well, everyone else is going to bed. You might as well join them.”

Kevin shook his head. “I so hope you didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Dean grinned. “Nope. I’m the only one around here who will be going to bed with Cas. If you want my brother, though, he’s available.”

Kevin groaned and started for his own room.

Dean headed for the kitchen, well pleased with the bit of levity. They needed it, considering everything that was going on.

As he opened the fridge door and rummaged around for something to eat--noting absently that they were low on tofu dogs and Red Bull—he decided that, except for Crowley’s departure, so far everything had gone fairly well. It had been good to see Benny again. Leaving him behind had been hard. It would have been nice to have him around. Vampires were handy when they were on your side. That probably would have been tough on Cas, though, even with him and Benny working stuff out.

Dean was enough lost in thought that he wasn’t aware of a presence behind him until a cultured British voice said, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned, chilled at Cas’ familiar welcome coming from a demon. “Crowley. Good of you to finally show up.”

Crowley shrugged. “Had a few things to work out, didn’t I?’’

“I don’t know. I suppose you wanted to let your demon minions know where to find us?” Suddenly he regretted having let Crowley into the bunker after the church.

The demon turned, pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. “No. I didn’t tell anyone about this place. Needed to think. It’s not exactly easy to give up what I’ve been for centuries.”

Dean grabbed his own chair, turned it around and sat, arms on the chair back. “You mean you’re going to do it?”

“Guess I am.”

“Why?” Dean was sure this was going to be the catch.

Crowley cocked his head and looked at Dean for a long moment before answering. “Doubt you’ll believe me.”

“Try me.”

The demon nodded. “All right, then. Because Sam asked me to.”

Dean blinked. “Huh?”

Crowley’s expression grew distant as he spoke. “I’ve always been contemptuous of you Winchester boys. But that night in the church, I saw something different in Sam. For the first time in centuries, I saw something I wanted to emulate. Obviously that surprised the heck out of me, and I fought it for a long time. But finding the spell components with him just reinforced what I saw.”

Dean shook his head, not sure he was following. “You want to be like my brother?”

Crowley gave him a sad smile. “What? Your brother not worth being a role model?”

“No, that’s not it,” Dean said. “I just never figured you for wanting to be like him.”

“Sam gave up the demon blood, didn’t he?” Crowley’s tone was soft, reflective.

Dean made a small “humph” sound. “No, apparently, he didn’t. As you both pointed out earlier, Cas cleansed him of it and didn’t ever bother to tell us.”

Crowley smiled, a hint of his old attitude in the expression. “Yeah, good on him for that. Didn’t think he had it in him. Although considering how long he had you going about his deal with me, I guess I should have guessed it.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” Even though it had been years, remembering learning how Cas had betrayed them still stung. “Okay, so you say you’re ready to do this thing. Let’s get on it then as soon as Sam and the others are awake. Kevin can give us the ritual, and we can finally get Death off my back.”

Crowley was shaking his head while Dean spoke.

“What now?”

“I want something in exchange, of course.”

Of course. Once a Crossroads demon, forever a deal maker.

“What do you want?” Dean was sure he wouldn’t like it.

Another insouciant grin. “Nothing too difficult, I think. Assuming I live through the ritual, admittedly a rather large assumption, I want to set up in Bobby’s old place.”

Dean hadn’t expected that. While he didn’t welcome Crowley occupying the home of the man he had considered to be second father, it wasn’t a difficult request to honor. “Why Bobby’s place?” He did have to ask.

Crowley shrugged. “I’m not going to be terribly popular down below.”

Dean couldn’t suppress a snort at the understatement.

“Your Bobby was a good hand with a ward. That place is already damn near impregnable, by both demon and angels. It’ll take just a bit of sprucing up for me to have a reasonably safe place for me to live out the rest of my years, however many of them there are.”

Dean considered. That made sense. “You’ll still need to leave to get supplies.”

“If I can’t persuade someone to do some shopping for me, then I wasted all those centuries learning the art of the deal.”

“Fair point. I’ll have to run it by Sam first, but I don’t think he’ll object. Right now, the place is just rotting. While you aren’t my first choice as caretaker, I’d feel better if someone was keeping it up.”

Crowley nodded. “That’s reasonable.” He let out a sudden yawn. “This being partially human is tiresome. I’d rather enjoyed not needing to sleep.”

“You’ll have to get used to it again. If you go through with this, your demon days are over. Sleep will be just one of many things you’ll have to deal with.”

Crowley gave a dramatic shudder. “Don’t I know it. And assuming I could forget, watching your boyfriend go through it all was a dramatic reminder about all the unpleasantness that goes with being human.”

“I don’t know. It has its good points too.”

“Yes, I know. Why don’t you toddle off to bed with your boyfriend? Thankfully, you both finally came to your senses about that.”

Relationship advice from Crowley was definitely off-putting, but Dean didn’t want to make an issue of it. They had a demon willing to set aside his nature. Dean didn’t intend to provoke him into changing his mind out of spite.

So, instead of a sharp rejoinder, he simply said, “I’m not quite tired. Napped on the drive back. I think I’ll do a bit of research before bed.”

Crowley stood up. “Research? Is that what they are calling it now?”

In spite of himself, Dean chuckled. “To bed with you. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Crowley frowned but said nothing as he headed off to his bedroom.

Dean didn’t really want to do research, but he also didn’t want to disturb Cas. If the former angel had actually gotten to sleep, he didn’t want to wake him up.

That thought led to another. He and Cas. Finally together. Sort of. He didn’t know what the future held. Would Cas really remain human? While that didn’t have to affect their relationship, Dean wasn’t sure how Cas would handle that. Would he become a Hunter and ride along with him and Sam? Would Sam go for that?

Dean suddenly had an image of Sam finding a girlfriend and the four of them driving across the country as a family of Hunters. That image generated a shudder. That wasn’t how Hunting was supposed to work, was it? Or did it matter?

Dean decided that was quite enough introspection for one day, and he got up to watch TV. Maybe that would make him sleepy enough to join the rest of the bunker in dream land.

***

Sam woke up from a disturbing dream. He couldn’t quite remember details, but he thought it involved Crowley and a ritual gone horribly wrong. Which was when he remembered the demon’s disappearance.

With a sigh, he levered himself out of bed, prepared to hit the books after breakfast.

He heard someone moving around in the kitchen and, assuming it was his brother, said, “Hey, Dean, any word from Crowley?” as he walked into the room.

“You could just ask me yourself,” came the slightly amused reply.

Sam shook his head, for a moment assuming he was still asleep. But no, this didn’t feel like a dream.

“Crowley?”

“The one and only.” The ex-demon was pulling items out of the fridge: eggs, bacon, butter.

“You cook?” Sam asked, not sure what else to say.

“Of course. Not as well as your brother, but it’s adequate to fill the stomach.”

“Where is Dean?”

Crowley frowned at the butter, as if it had offended him. “I had expected he’d be shacked up with his boyfriend, but he crashed in front of the TV. I had expected better of him.”

Sam chuckled. “Perhaps he’s waiting for the big day.”

Crowley snorted. “As if. I do know his history.”

Sam started heating up the frying pan. “Want some help?”

Crowley nodded, and the two of them focused for a few minutes on preparing breakfast for five.

Finally, Sam asked, “So, have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“I have,” Crowley said as he dipped some bread in the egg mixture Sam had whipped up.

Sam waited a moment. When Crowley still hadn’t responded, after turning two slices of French toast, he said, “And your decision is?”

“Had this all out with your brother last night. You know how I hate repeating myself.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “That’s rich coming from you. Usually we can’t get you to shut up.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve changed, haven’t I?”

Sam could sense the unease in the other man. “You’re going to have to tell me some time. Might as well be now.”

Crowley nodded and flipped two slices of French toast onto a plate. “I guess. I’ve decided to do it.”

Sam suppressed a sigh of relief. He’d been hoping that would be the response, but he’d been trying not to hope too much. “That’s good.”

Crowley shot him a look. “That’s good? That’s all you manage to say.”

Sam shrugged. “And what would you have rather I’d said?”

“I figured you’d at least ask me why. Or something.”

“Okay,” Sam said as he loaded his plate with bacon from the frying pan he’d been using. “Why?”

“That’s better.” Crowley dropped a piece of bread, dripping with egg mixture, onto his own frying pan.

When the ex-demon hadn’t spoken for several seconds, Sam prompted him. “Going to tell me now or wait until Hell freezes over?”

“Not going to happen, mate.”

“Hell freezing over or you telling me why?”

Crowley chuckled. “All right. It’s basically because of you.”

“Huh?” That had not been what Sam had been expecting.

“Well, these last few days reminded me that being human isn’t completely terrible. It has its moments, and just because you’re human doesn’t mean you’re completely useless.”

“Uh, thanks, I think?” Sam wasn’t quite certain how to respond.

Crowley shook his head and then cocked it, as if listening for something. Finally, he nodded and said, “Okay, if you really want me to be honest, and this is just between you and me, I’ve done more than just learn to respect you these last few days.”

A slight flush rose on the ex-demon’s cheeks, and Sam suddenly had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew what was coming.

“You’re doing this because you--” Sam wasn’t even sure how to say it.

“Yeah, because I’ve kind of started to…well…fancy you.”

Sam started to say something but Crowley hastened to add, “I know. Nothing’s going to come of it. You don’t like guys that way and never will. I get that, but that doesn’t change what I feel, and once I realized what was going on, I knew I had to do it. Wouldn’t have been right otherwise, you know.”

“You’re going to renounce being a demon because you want to bang my brother?”

Both Sam and Crowley jumped and turned to see Dean, lounging in the doorway to the kitchen, a huge grin on his face.

“I listened, and you were nowhere nearby!” protested Crowley.

“What can I say? I move quietly.” Dean said as he entered the kitchen and sauntered over to glance at the breakfast preparations. “Not bad, Crowley, but you’d better turn those before they burn.”

With a yelp, Crowley turned back to his French toast and flipped the slices.

“Not that I should talk,” Dean added as he stole a slice of bacon. “What with me and Cas and all, but seriously, Sam. I thought you had better taste than that.”

Sam had lived with his brother long enough to recognize the teasing tone. “I don’t know, Dean. You’ve had an angel watching you your entire life. It’s not fair that you get the only supernatural action in the family.”

“Am I hearing what I think I’m hearing?” Kevin asked as he entered the kitchen. His hair was going in every direction, but Sam noticed that the circles under his eyes had diminished. A few more nights of sleep, and the kid might be back to normal.

“Really? Is everyone going to comment on this?” Crowley asked, but Sam noticed that he didn’t sound as annoyed as the words indicated.

“Pretty sure Cas is still out,” Dean said. “I glanced in on him before I came here. He was snoring but good.”

“Better you than me,” Kevin commented as he went to the fridge and rummaged around for a moment before emerging with a carton of orange juice.

“Well, you’ll have to tell him that I’m doing the ritual thing. I refuse to go through it again.”

Sam looked at his brother, and unspoken agreement passed between them. Dean moved over to the stove and took over the bacon frying. “I’ve got this, Sam,” was all he said.

Sam gently touched Crowley on the shoulder. “Come with me for a minute.”

Crowley looked at him curiously, but handed his spatula to Dean, who, without a hitch, took over the cooking of the entire breakfast.

Kevin glanced up from pouring his orange juice, but, at a gesture from Dean, said nothing.

In the other room, Sam said, “Look I know that wasn’t an easy thing to say. My brother can be an ass at times.”

Crowley gave him a _Really? Duh!_ look, and Sam smiled as he continued. “You’re right. I’m never going to like you that way. It looks like bisexuality doesn’t run in the Winchester family, but I’m honored. Really. But don’t let your attraction to me be the only reason you’re doing this. We don’t know what’s going to happen to you, and I want you to be doing it for you. Not for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you, mate. Not really. I’m doing it because I kind of figured out you’re a good guy to have on my side. I guess I’m doing it because I want to be the kind of person you could like. You know, like if I was a girl.”

Sam grinned. “Deal.” He held out a hand. Crowley took it, and Sam pulled him into a hug. The ex-demon stiffened for a moment but then relaxed into it.

When Sam let him go, he said, “It’s not like the Winchesters are unused to having ex-monsters as part of the family.”

Crowley’s eyes glistened as he nodded and said, “Right, luv.” His eyes twinkled at the word, and Sam smiled back. “Let’s eat and do this thing. All this emotional stuff aside, I’m terrified, and I’d rather not have too much time to rethink my decision.”

Sam motioned him toward the kitchen. When they rejoined the others, he noticed that Cas had joined them. From the considering look he gave Crowley, Sam guessed Dean had filled him in.

Everyone ate until not even Sam could find room for one more slice of bacon. He briefly wondered if eating had been a good idea. Some rituals were better done after fasting. Then he looked at Crowley, who was good-naturedly ribbing Cas about something the ex-angel had done in Purgatory, and Sam decided that eating together had brought them all together as family, and that had to be a good thing.

Crowley went silent, glanced at each of them in turn and finally said, “Well, I guess it’s time to do this thing.”

***

Dean listened as Kevin went over the ritual. It was basic stuff. The third element, Crowley’s renouncement of his demon nature, wasn’t a separate step; the dragon claw and balanced soul were integral parts of his sacrifice. There were also the usual ritual ingredients to burn and required words to chant. Dean paid little attention to the details. This was Crowley’s show, and Sam was paying enough attention for both of them. Plus, Cas’ memory for rituals was perfect, so there wasn’t any particular reason for Dean to remember the specifics.

He listened enough to get the gist and what he noticed was there was no mention of what exactly would happen to the demon who renounced his nature. Would Crowley die? Become fully human? Explode in a shower of colored sparks? It wasn’t clear.

Dean didn’t watch people the way Sam did, but he did watch people.

Kevin looked tired, and Dean made a note to make sure the kid got some rest and down time after this. No matter what world-shattering crisis appeared as soon as this one was over (and one would—it was inevitable in the lives of Winchesters, both blood members and adopted), Kevin would get at least a few days to recover.

Cas was attentive, leaning forward slightly in his attempt to absorb all the details of the ritual. In the early days of knowing the angel, Dean had found that complete attention to be off-putting and more than slightly creepy. Now he kind of liked it.

Sam was concentrating, but Dean knew his brother well enough to see that half his attention was on the ritual and the other half was on Crowley, assessing to see how well the ex-demon was handling the strain. It was like his brother to remember both the details and to pay attention to the people performing. Dean admired his brother for that. He was more single-minded about things. Which made them excellent hunting partners.

Crowley was paying attention to Kevin’s explanation. Dean noticed there was little of Crowley’s usual swaggering attitude. He doubted it was gone. No one could change that much that quickly, but for the moment, he was a Winchester, focused on the task of saving the world once again. Oddly, Dean didn’t think it strange to have the former King of Hell as an honorary Winchester. By now he was hardly the oddest member of their family.

He wished that Benny could be here. The vampire had been a part of this, was still a part of it since he was the one guarding the soul in Purgatory, but Dean would have liked him to be here, with them. He’d never had his entire family all in one place.

He wasn’t even aware that he no longer counted John Winchester as part of his family.

“So that’s it,” Keven said. “Once you’ve said the last words, the ritual should be complete, and the Gates of Heaven should open.”

“Not entirely happy about all those ‘shoulds’ in there,” Crowley said with a slight growl in his voice.

The prophet shrugged. “Nothing I can do about that. I know I translated everything correctly, but as far as I know, this ritual has never been performed. It’s hard to promise anything when it’s never been done before.”

“Kevin is correct,” Cas said. “This has never been performed. There has never been a need.”

Dean cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. “We’re used to first times, so let’s start talking and get on it. Cas, do we have everything we need?”

Cas nodded. “I inventoried the storeroom before we left for Purgatory, and we have everything Kevin mentioned.”

Bless angelic memory.

“Good. Sam, you want to go gather what we need?”

“On it,” his brother said as he walked out of the room.

Dean turned to Crowley. “You ready for this?”

“No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

Dean nodded. “Good. If you’d said you were ready, I’d’ve known you were lying.”

Crowley gave a short bark of laughter but said nothing.

While they waited for Sam to return, Cas pushed desks aside, clearing space in the middle of the room. Once the desks were out of the way, he knelt down and started drawing symbols on the floor in chalk. Dean was happy to let him do it. Cas’ writing was neater than his own.

Kevin and Crowley watched in silence.

Sam came back just as Cas was finishing up the last few symbols. Sam glanced them over as he walked past and nodded. “Nice job, Cas. You’re better even than Bobby was.”

Cas said, “Thank you,” and Dean suppressed his instinctive bristle at the comment. As much as he loved the ex-angel, Bobby still held a special place in his heart.

Sam put everything down on the table they were using as an altar. “You want to do this part, Crowley?” His voice was gentle and held a touch of sympathy.

Crowley nodded and busied himself with the final preparations. Dean noticed that his motions were precise and certain, with no wasted motions. Sam stepped beside him and said, his voice pitched low, “He has been a witch for centuries.”

Dean nodded. Of course. He spoke, his voice pitched the same as his brother’s. “You guys need to do a finding to locate the dragon?”

“Yes. Crowley did it, and it was something to watch.”

Only Winchesters would talk about rituals the same way other people discussed sports plays.

Finally, Crowley stepped back. “I guess that’s it then.”

It was such a solemn moment that Dean almost thought he should say something, but before the half-formed idea could turn into something solid, Crowley lit the incense in the bowl on the makeshift altar and began.

It didn’t look much different from other rituals they had performed. Crowley chanted and tossed things into the smoldering bowl, sending sparks shooting in all directions. The air in the room grew oppressive. When Crowley added the dragon claw to the bowl, the scent of sulfur hung heavily around them. The atmosphere lightened slightly when he carefully poured in Bob’s soul.

All that done, Crowley stepped back, paused for a moment and said, very clearly, “I renounce my demon nature for now and for all time.”

Everything went still before Crowley collapsed.

***

Sam was in motion almost before Crowley hit the floor. He caught the man and lowered him slowly, almost cradling the still form.

“Sam?” was all Dean said.

There was nothing to say. Sam could feel no motion in the body he held. No sign of breath. No heartbeat. It was done.

He shook his head, confirming what he knew everyone else had already realized.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, at almost the same time as Kevin asked, “What about Heaven? Did it work?”

Everyone turned to Cas, who stood silent and still, his head cocked to one side in a listening pose. After a moment, he nodded. “I must still have a trace of Grace left because I can feel…something. I think it worked.”

Sam glanced down to the body in his arms. Crowley looked at peace, as if in his last moments he’d known he’d done it. “At least his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Dean knelt and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You okay, Sammy?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. We knew this was a possibility, but it was what he wanted.”

They all stood for a moment in silent contemplation of the man who had been an enemy for so long and then, for a brief time, a friend and ally.

Cas shifted to one side, blocking the light from the brazier for a moment before moving out of its way again. In that second, the flickering light glinted on something on Crowley’s hand. Sam frowned. A ring? What was that?

Suddenly, he realized what it was. Death’s ring was still on Crowley’s hand. He had the feeling it was important, but for a moment, he didn’t know how. Slowly, almost as if he wasn’t controlling his motions, he reached out, took the ring off Crowley’s finger and slipped it onto his own.

He was vaguely aware of Dean’s voice, questioning his actions, but he couldn’t make out the exact words. All his attention was on what was in front of him.

“Hello, Sam.”

It was Crowley’s soul, mostly solid but with an edge of translucence about it.

“Crowley?”

“Of course. Apparently, I can’t move on while in the presence of a Reaper ring.”

A hand landed on Sam’s shoulder, and he turned, not at all surprised to see Death standing there.

Cas, Dean and Kevin were in a loose circle surrounding them, identical confusion on all their faces, although it looked like Dean was almost getting it.

“You never came back for the ring,” Sam said.

A small smile played about the edges of Death’s eyes. “No, I didn’t, did I?”

“You knew?” the soul of Crowley asked.

“Let’s say I suspected.”

Sam glanced back and forth between the Horseman and Crowley. “What do we do now?”

“You bear the ring, Sam,” Death said. “The choice is up to you.”

“Choice?”

“Send him on or let him stay. His body is in perfectly good condition.” Death glanced down at the body on the floor. “Well, mostly good condition, at least.”

“Hey,” Crowley started to say, but then he said nothing else.

“If you desire him to stay, you have the ring. It can be used to put back as well as release.”

Sam looked at Crowley. “Do you want to stay?”

“Do you want me to?” Crowley asked, his expression hopeful.

Sam realized that was an expression he had rarely, if ever, seen on the ex-demon’s face. However, when put like that, it was easy.

“Yes, I do want you to stay.” He turned to Death. “What do I do?”

“You’ve already done it, Sam.”

Sam frowned in confusion but then realized that the soul of Crowley was gone. However, his body’s eyes had opened and, though dazed, were looking around.

“Sam? What happened?” Dean asked.

Sam said nothing as Crowley slowly got to his feet.

“So that’s what it’s like,” he said as he stood, swaying slightly.

“Considering how many people you sent on, there is a certain poetic justice in it,” Death said, his voice agreeable.

“Wait?” Dean asked. “You never died?”

Crowley shook his head. “No. Was recruited before I died. Doesn’t happen often, but apparently the home office saw something they liked.”

“And we just brought you back?”

Sam noticed that Dean didn’t actually sound all that upset, so he ignored his brother’s bluster and turned to face Death, pulling the ring off his finger as he moved. He held it out to the Horseman. “I believe this is yours.”

Death took it with a snort. “I’d like to hope that this will be the last time I need to lend it to a Winchester, but something tells me that’s unlikely.”

Sam shrugged, allowing a small smile to play about his lips. This one had been hard. Perhaps not the hardest one they’d ever done, but still hard. He glanced over at Crowley, who still looked dazed. He was glad it had played out the way it had.

“I’ll leave you all to the after-action meeting or whatever it is you do once you’ve saved the world,” Death said as he turned to go. “I have about a million souls to attend to.”

Sam touched his arm before he could leave. “Thank you.”

Death smiled, the expression odd on his long, solemn face. “I’d say that I should be thanking you, but you’re the reason this all needed to be done, so I’ll settle for ‘you’re welcome.’”

With that, he left.

“I guess that’s it,” Dean said. He had one arm around Cas and looked contented with the world.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Sam said. “Any idea what you’re going to do now that you’re human, Crowley?”

The ex-demon looked at Dean. “Depends on whether he’s going to stick to his side of the bargain.”

Dean nodded. “You did your part. We’ll do ours. I don’t go back on a deal.”

Sam glanced between them. “What deal?”

Dean was nudging Cas in the direction of the door. “You explain it to him, Crowley. I’ve got stuff to do.”

Everyone except Cas groaned. “What do you mean, Dean?” the ex-angel asked.

Dean said nothing, just tossed a jaunty grin over his shoulder as he guided Cas to his bedroom.

Kevin was shaking his head and smiling. “I think I’d better make myself scarce for a while.”

Sam was grinning in the direction of his brother. “Yeah, you’d better do that.” He dug in his pocket and took out a roll of bills. He handed them to Kevin. “Here, take one of the clunker cars and go grab a decent bite to eat. You might want to get a room in a motel for a night. That may be the only way you’ll get any sleep.”

Kevin grinned back at him, took the money and left.

Sam turned to Crowley, who was giving him an odd look. “You don’t really think your brother is going to be that loud, do you?”

Sam shook his head. “No, but the kid needs some time away, and I’ll use any excuse.”

“Plus, I suspect you want to talk to me.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Crowley sighed and headed for the living area, where they both sat down on the couch, shoulders companionably touching.

“So, the deal?” Sam asked.

“It’s nothing to worry about. I asked Dean to give me Bobby’s place if I survived.”

Sam nodded. “That makes sense. He’s warded it well. How long before all your former underlings figure it out.”

Crowley mimed looking at a watch. “Oh, probably about…5 minutes ago. Something like that will send quite a ripple through Hell. Not many demons go back on the deal.”

“Dean and, I guess, me?” Sam asked.

“Something like that,” Crowley agreed. “You were both kind of special cases. Neither of you did intentional deals.”

“Dean did. He made a deal to bring me back.”

Crowley shook his head. “Not the same thing. He didn’t get the usual 10 years and all that. Plus, an angel took him out of Hell. Never heard of that happening before. Your soul was sold when you were a baby, and you had nothing to do with it. So again, not the usual thing. And don’t forget your dad, although he just went straight to Heaven.”

Oh. Sam had forgotten about him. Odd how long it had been since he’d thought much about his parents.

“Me, though,” Crowley continued. “I made the deal before I died, so I got special treatment. I don’t know of anyone who did that and then went back on it. Definitely no one who has ruled in Hell.” He shrugged. “I’m going to have a lot of people coming for me.”

“Regrets?”

Crowley shook his head and shifted on the couch. “No. I’d made my peace with whatever happened. At least I’m still alive, which gives me certain options.”

He glanced over at Sam. “It’s not like I’m without friends.” His expression was wistful and hopeful.

Sam smiled. “We’re giving you our surrogate father figure’s home. What do you think?”

Crowley nodded, his expression satisfied. “Well, that’s that then. Thank you for that. I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will.” Sam glanced in the rough direction of his brother’s bedroom. “Now what are we going to do about Cas?”

Crowley shrugged. Sam felt the motion where their shoulders touched. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I suspect the ex-angel will get his wings back.”

Sam turned to look at him. “How do you figure that?”

“Sex rituals are particularly powerful, don’t you know?”

***

While walking Cas down the hallway, Dean had felt confident. As soon as they entered his bedroom, he suddenly felt unsure of himself. It wasn’t the sex part. While his experience was limited to Benny, he was sure he could figure anything else out. But this was Cas. Who had been so much to him. Savior. Protector. Hammer. Friend. And now? Lover?

Cas closed the door behind them. He must have picked up on Dean’s uncertainty because he said, “It’s all right, Dean. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Maybe that was what Dean needed because he felt his confidence return. “So, you were playing dumb out there?”

Cas smiled. “I was married. And Daphne wasn’t exactly quiet.”

Dean shook his head. “Huh. She didn’t seem the type.”

“I believe I once heard that it wasn’t a good idea to discuss former lovers.”

“I will remind you that you started that one.”

Cas shrugged. “Fair enough.”

The ex-angel didn’t seem exactly uncomfortable, but he didn’t look at ease either. Dean put out a hand. “Come here.”

Cas came, and Dean pulled him into a long hug. For that moment, it was enough to just feel the solid body next to him. He moved his hands gently up and down Cas’ back. Hesitantly, but then with more confidence, Cas moved his hands along Dean’s back and shoulders.

When they finally kissed, it just felt right.

This time they had no pressures. The world was safe for the moment. Dean’s family was safe, and no one needed anything from him. He could just enjoy the moment.

And enjoy it he did. Cas was very good at kissing. Dean tossed out a silent thanks to the distant Daphne. While Dean had certainly had his share of virgins, he preferred a partner who knew something of what he was doing.

Cas tasted different from girls. He couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps a hint of musk? He opened his mouth, inviting Cas in, and the other followed his lead.

That was good for a while, as good as hugging had been, but soon Dean’s body indicated that it wanted something more. Cas shifted his hips, and Dean felt an erection pressing against his own. That was good, and he pressed himself against Cas. Soon they were rutting against each other, soft moans escaping both of them.

Cas pulled back. “Dean.” His voice was filled with desire and longing.

“Yeah, Cas. Let’s take this to the bed.”

A shiver ran down Cas’ body, and Dean grinned to himself. Yeah, this was going to be good.

Dean guided Cas to the bed and pushed gently until the other man was lying on his back. Dean let himself really look for the first time. Cas was beautiful. His too-long dark hair lay in messy waves on Dean’s pillow. Blue eyes sought his, and Dean thought he could drown in them. “Take off your clothes. I want to see all of you.”

“You too, Dean.” Cas’ voice was a husky whisper that sent a stab of arousal straight to Dean’s cock.

“Yeah. Good idea.” He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and finally got them unfastened. Cas was pulling the old t-shirt of Dean’s that he’d been wearing over his head, and Dean sucked in a breath at the sight of a firm muscled chest.

Dean was suddenly conscious of the slight beer gut he’d been developing and resolved in that moment to drink less and lift a few more weights.

Cas slid out of his jeans, and Dean had to close his eyes for a moment against the wave of arousal that went through him when he realized Cas wasn’t wearing underwear.

“Don’t stop, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean realized he’d stopped with his jeans half undone. He unbuttoned them the rest of the way, grateful for the easing of pressure.

Socks and boots soon followed jeans, and Dean crawled onto the bed, still unable to take his eyes off Cas.

The ex-angel reached for him, and they were kissing again. Kissing and pressing against each other. It felt amazing. So like and yet unlike any of his previous partners. Only with Lisa, and perhaps with Benny, had he felt anything close to this intensity.

They paused to catch their breaths, foreheads touching. Cas said, “Now I know what was missing before.”

“Yeah,” was all Dean could say before he kissed Cas again. He was sure he’d never get tired of this.

Cas whimpered and thrust his erection against his thigh. “Dean,” he breathed through the kiss.

Dean wanted more too, but he briefly had to run through the practicalities and mechanics. He broke their kiss long enough to reach out and rummage through the bedside drawer. Ah. He’d correctly remembered the bottle of lube.

He pulled back to look at Cas and almost got lost again in those blue eyes. He fancied they had a slight glow about them. “How do you want to do this, Cas?”

His lover frowned. “What do you mean, Dean?”

“Uh, think you’re a top or a bottom?”

Confusion glazed those blue eyes for a moment until they cleared. “Oh.” He smiled shyly. “I think I’d rather be a bottom. At least this time.”

Dean relaxed a bit. That worked. That’s what he and Benny had done once, so he knew what to do. At least this time he had proper lubrication.

He smiled and popped the cap on the bottle. “Relax and lie back. This may feel a bit strange.”

Cas immediately lay back and opened his legs without needing to be told. Dean liberally coated his index finger and gently inserted it. Cas closed his eyes and squirmed a bit.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes. You are right. It does feel strange.”

Dean crooked his fingers, searching for and finding the spot. He was rewarded with a gasp from Cas. “Yes. That. Do that again.”

Dean slowly and carefully worked Cas open, adding a second and then third finger. With his other hand, he firmly grasped Cas’ cock and stroked it.

Cas moaned and writhed on the bed, and Dean couldn’t help a smile. His own cock was demanding attention, but Dean was able to focus on what he was doing to Cas, and he found he loved the small noises the ex-angel was making, and the way he pressed back against Dean’s fingers.

Finally, Cas said, “Now, Dean. I want you inside me.”

That was all it took. Dean’s cock gave an insistent lurch, and he removed his fingers. He got more lube and slicked up his own cock, concentrating hard on not coming from that.

Once he was certain he was slick enough, he knelt between Cas’ legs and gently and slowly entered him.

He was glad he had done this once before because it was so different from being with a woman, but it was so good that he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from coming.

Cas gasped and pushed back against him. “Deeper, Dean. Please.”

Dean had been trying to be slow and careful, but that plea undid him, and he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in Cas.

Cas stiffened, and Dean froze, afraid he had hurt him.

Cas gripped Dean’s arms and said, “No, don’t stop. It feels so good. Keep going.”

Dean complied and soon found a rhythm that worked for both of them. Cas moaned and thrust against him. Dean remembered to grip Cas’ cock and pumped it in time with their motions.

Dean’s eyes had closed, and he suddenly wanted to see his lover. He opened his eyes and was briefly startled by white light surrounding them. Cas’ eyes were closed and he thrust upward. “Don’t stop.”

“But Cas. You’re glowing.”

“I know.” The ex-angel’s voice was breathy but confident. “Keep going.”

Dean resumed his rhythm and watched in mingled amazement and arousal as the glow intensified around Cas. He didn’t think he could last much longer, and from the sounds Cas was making, he was pretty sure his lover was also close.

After a moment, Cas screamed out Dean’s name and came, semen hot and thick on Dean’s hand. Dean thrust one more time, and he was coming too, inarticulate words on his tongue. He just managed, though, to keep his eyes open, and as he spasmed his way through his own climax, the glow around Cas became almost blinding. Just as he spent himself in Cas, he closed his eyes. However, he had kept them open just long enough to see shadowy wings spread from Cas’ shoulders.

Dean collapsed on top of Cas, wanting to ask about the wings but just too tired at that moment. Cas breathed, slow and steady under him. After a few minutes of quiet togetherness, Dean became uncomfortably aware of the stickiness between them. He pushed himself up on his elbows and opened his eyes.

Cas lay quietly, eyes still closed, expression full of exhausted bliss. The wings were gone, but there was something different about Cas. Like something Dean had been missing without even realizing it was gone.

“You have your Grace back. You’re an angel again.”

Cas opened his eyes, and Dean wondered how he could have forgotten the angel blue that looked back at him, similar to but so much more vibrant than Cas’ human eyes.

“Yes.” His voice sounded uncertain.

Dean cocked his head. “You don’t sound happy about it. I’d expect you to be practically dancing with joy.”

Cas moved to sit up, and Dean settled himself against the headboard.

“I am happy. But I don’t know what it means for us.”

Oh. Now Dean got it. He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that, man. Angel or human, I love you.” He realized it was true as he said it. He also realized that, until that moment, he had been worried if he’d feel the same way about Cas if he got his Grace back. However, nothing had changed. If anything, he felt more connected to Cas now.

“How did it happen? I mean, don’t tell me sex cured you or something. I do not want to be part of a bad fanfic trope.”

Cas cocked his head. “I don’t know what that is, Dean.”

Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me how it happened.”

Energy seemed to crackle around Cas, filling the air with the faintest scent of ozone. Dean realized how much he had missed that.

Cas lowered his eyes as he answered. “Actually, I think it was the sex, Dean.” He looked up then and added, “It was wonderful.”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, it was. And I think we can do even better next time.”

Joy suffused Cas’ eyes at the mention of a next time.

“Okay, so I am part of a bad trope. But how, Cas?”

“Well, sex-based rituals are particularly powerful. There is still residual energy in the bunker from Crowley’s ritual, and I think we absorbed that. When the Gates opened, I realized I had a touch of Grace still left, and…” He broke off, expression uncertain.

“What?”

“When I remade you in Hell, I think I left a tiny bit of my Grace behind, in you. When we had sex, that bit joined with mine, and, coupled with the energy from the previous ritual, it all combined to regenerate mine.” He stretched his arms above his head. “My Grace feels…I don’t quite know how to describe it. Tender? Unused? But I sense that soon I will be back to my normal self.”

He wrapped his arms around himself and seemed to hunch inward. Dean reached out and pulled the angel into a firm hug. “It doesn’t matter to me, Cas. Like I said, I love you, angel or not. I don’t know what this means for the future. You’re still more than welcome to hunt with us. Or if you need to go back to Heaven to sort stuff out, that’s fine too. As long as you come back sometimes.”

Dean wasn’t entirely happy about Cas going back to Heaven, but that was where an angel belonged, and if that’s what Cas needed, well, then, that’s what he’d get.

Cas relaxed into the hug. “I don’t know what this means for the future either. But I do I know one thing right now.”

“What’s that?”

Cas snuggled down deeper into Dean’s arms. “It can wait until later. Right now, this is where I want to be.”

Dean smiled and held Cas close. Yeah, that worked for now. Let tomorrow take care of itself.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this story after the Season 8 finale, intending to finish it before Season 9 started. Obviously, that never happened. It languished, half-written, until this year when I decided it was time to finally finish it. Note that the story was basically plotted out years ago, including Crowley's sacrifice, so I wasn't influenced by the end of Season 12. I honestly thought they were planning a Season 9 Crowley redemption arc. Never thought it would take them 4 years to get around to it.
> 
> A few more notes about Crowley. When I started writing, I hadn't intended him to "fancy" Sam. Darned demon decided to do that on his own, and I decided to let him run with it. Also, I know he's not wearing Hunter plaid in the dragon scene, and dogsled offered to change it, but I decided to tweak the character and let it stand. Sorry, Crowley. It's your penance for me bringing you back.
> 
> One note on Cas. I think the writers fail to get that he's an Angel of the Frickin' Lord and has been a Warrior of God for millennia. Which means he'd be a phenomenal tactician. This was my way of making that happen since the writers don't seem like they are going to get there.


End file.
